Perfect
by Elle Seren
Summary: Highschool AU. Bakura: Has a keen eye on the strange new kid. Ryou: Is terrified of Mariku who he shares a strange past with. Malik: Is the exotic new kid in a class full of kids older than him. Mariku: Is in love with Ryou. Thiefshipping/Deathshipping!
1. The New Kid

**A/U: I've been working on this for the past couple weeks and I decided to post the first chapter as a mini-present to me as I mourn the fact that I have to go back to school tomorrow...hope people enjoy this new story! It's a Thiefshipping (Yami Bakura x Hikari Malik)/Deathshipping (Yami Marik[u] x Hikari Ryou) high school AU. If Bakura and Mariku seem OOC please let me know and give me suggestions as to how to write them better but it's hard to write them into a high school AU (alternate universe AKA non-canon) and make them as 'evil' as they normally are. I mean come on; they're high school kids for crying out loud! I wrote Bakura more on the sarcastic side and Mariku on the 'crazy' end. **

**Warning(s)****: Foul language ahead. Also, I sincerely hope no one is offended by any views expressed in this story. Some of them may be mine but since I try to stay as IC as possible, it might just be me writing what **_**I**_** personally think the character would have to say on the issue. After all, we all know some of our favourite Yu-Gi-Oh villains lack manners. Marik: My name is Marik Ishtar. Bakura: I don't care. Point in case? I thought so.**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

"Mariku, he _doesn't like you_ give it up," Bakura snapped bluntly as Mariku began his usual routine of 'staring out the window' while carefully arranging his already ridiculously spiked blond hair. He shot his friend a dirty look, shaking he head firmly.

"I know he doesn't like me _now_ but that doesn't mean he _won't_ like me eventually," He replied enthusiastically and Bakura collapsed forward on his desk, chin resting on his arms as he considered taking a nap to escape another sweltering hot day in this stupid 'place of learning'.

Please, high school didn't teach you anything except how to skip detention and make out without getting caught by the hall monitors. Mariku rotated his cheek against his hand so he could stare in a no doubt longing way at the single window in the entire prison box they called a class room.

His desk was one to the left of Bakura's and then between Mariku and the window was two more desks. The first housed a mousy haired girl who quickly learned the first week of the new semester to sit as low to her desk as possible and stay out of Mariku's way at all costs.

That said, it was only because on her left sitting right beside the window was the twin of the boy criticizing his friend right now. Ryou looked similar to Bakura with his shaggy white hair though the unruly locks were combed as neatly as possible and his eyes didn't contain the crimson tint that made his harsh twin appear truly demonic.

Their skin was the same lily white having grown up in England and they both held the same slightly British accent but from there on out it was all opposites.

"He's so sweet and innocent and...pretty!" Mariku cooed in his smitten lovesick voice as though reading his friend's thoughts and highlighting all the differences between him and his twin. Bakura scoffed, picking himself up off his desk to run both hands through his knotted hair irritably.

"And smart enough to stay away from you," He replied dryly as Mariku let out another pathetic sigh, turning his deep purple eyes to his desk, tracing a bored pattern into the wood with one finger.

"I know I was a prick before but...he'll forgive me one day..." He said quietly and he was serious enough that most people would try and show him some sympathy. Bakura just scoffed, rolling those crimson brown eyes with disgust as he tilted back on his chair. He'd heard this monologue far too many times to take it seriously anymore.

"Oh my God you're even more pathetic today then you were yesterday," He said in his own comforting way that received a glare from his friend.

"Ass," He grumbled but let it go with one last glance at Ryou. It wasn't that it bothered Bakura that his best friend was in love with his twin or that both of them were males or even that Mariku was completely pathetic while Ryou rarely acknowledged his existence outside of polite encounters.

In fact, Mariku was possibly the only person in the school who could drool over Ryou without getting a black eye. The simple truth was that Mariku was Bakura's partner in crime, always had been since the start of ninth grade and three years later sitting in second semester English Bakura was sick of Mariku's failed approaches.

The girl seated between Mariku and Ryou, the latter who hadn't even noticed the daydreaming gaze on him, turned to give Bakura a meekly appreciative smile. He smirked and accepted it silently but didn't bother doing anything more to catch her attention.

Why bother leading her on? Unlike Mariku who was firmly gay with little respect for the female population and even more gay over Ryou, Bakura didn't care about his own sexuality nor felt the need to figure out what it was.

Everyone around him was a can of soup, wearing labels like designer clothes. Gay, straight, bi, lesbian, transvestite, drag queen...these were the words used to separate who was in and who was out depending on what social circle you were in.

Considering that Bakura was his own social circle he'd never felt the need to become 'soup' like everyone else. Mariku was his partner in crime and if asked, admittedly his best friend. Ryou was his twin brother but despite his coldly protective attitude towards him, Bakura considered him more of a friend then a sibling.

In sports when he joined a team, he worked with the team but he didn't become a part of it. Unlike Mariku who could possibly be classified as a jock or a 'queer' Bakura was just Touzoku Bakura to most people.

He'd lusted for both girls and boys but never felt a strong attachment to either which some people would say made him bi but Bakura didn't care enough to correct that. If you out and out asked him he'd explain that he wasn't 'bi' he simply had never been attracted romantically to anyone. Ever.

That was about to change.

A knock sounded formally on the classroom door and then slid open, revealing what appeared in one side glance to be a very masculine girl or a very effeminate boy. One of the school's guidance councillors, Mashido-san, had his hand hooked around the person's shoulder as though holding them in place while they swept their eyes across the classroom coldly.

Bakura rocked forward on his chair, bringing it back to all fours as he observed the person carefully. They looked extremely familiar for some reason...Mashido-san was pushing the person forwards now, trying to subtly edge him into the room but the masculine girl/effeminate boy merely shrugged him off and walked alone to the front and centre, still observing the now silent classroom with sharp narrowed eyes.

Now with a frontal view of the person's face Bakura could immediately tell it was a boy. A very different looking boy to be sure with his slender frame, tanned skin and white-blond hair falling in neat layers to his shoulders, bangs nearly tangling with his eyelashes, but a boy nonetheless.

He was broad shouldered though with a straight set mouth and dark kohl marks curving across his cheekbones under his eyes. It only took one glance at those lavender eyes for Bakura to recognize him.

They _had _met before, albeit briefly, and on closer inspection now Bakura recognized him from a couple other occasions as well. After all, how many tan skinned, blond boys with traditional Egyptian markings and jewellery attended Domino High?

Only two, and with a sharp glance to his left he was right on time to catch Mariku rolling his eyes with exasperation. He recalled vaguely that despite being a foster kid Mariku lived with his younger brother and really, how could this kid not be related to Mariku and look like _that_?

As in utterly exotic and, yes, extremely gorgeous. At least three girls were at this very moment checking him out and measuring themselves up to be his next make out behind the portable after school. Oh if they only knew how unlikely that was...

Bakura sneered as the kid at the front of the room who flashed his dazzling lavender eyes in every direction before shooting a confident smirk in Mariku's direction, then turning even more smugly back towards Mashido-san.

"Permission to announce myself, _sir?_" He asked and there was a definite curl of contempt to his words. Huh, Bakura was definitely going to have to get to know this kid. He had sparked his curiosity, something that was hard to do, but then again they _had_ met before. Mashido-san was not oblivious to the contempt and scowled, folding his arms.

"Why don't you ask your new teacher?" He asked gruffly and the kid's smirk only grew more pronounced, a look crossing his face that had Mashido-san's expression falling. That was the look of someone who was going in for the kill.

"I would but I don't think she was expecting me _sir,_ nor have you informed me of her name," He drawled lazily and Bakura felt a twinge of respect for his cheekiness. It reminded him, unsurprisingly, of Mariku when he wasn't being pathetic over Ryou.

There was something darker to his theatrics though. Bakura considered momentarily that perhaps he was more like himself then like Mariku but discarded the thought after brief pondering. He'd yet to meet anyone quite like himself after all.

He smirked inwardly, wondering if that was why he'd never felt attracted to anyone. It was hard for others to live up to the expectations he set for himself after all. Seeing the two males at the front of the room revving up for a verbal fight Bakura got legitimately interested.

Obviously Mashido-san was not a fan of the kid's nor was the kid of Mashido-san. Evidently he wasn't the only one sensing a power struggle about to take place because Sato-sensei, their regular teacher, stood up from her desk, straightening her skirt nervously.

"I have an idea, why don't we settle this like grownups Mashido-san and have you introduce our new student to _me_ and then he can introduce himself to his classmates," She suggested in a slightly cutting voice and the kid rolled his eyes subtly. Mariku groaned aloud, shaking his head until his wildly spiked blond hair waved with the motion as the kid opened his mouth to speak again.

"Care to wreck some havoc?" Bakura suggested calmly, putting his feet up on the desk in front of him, grinning slightly as Mariku hesitated then nodded enthusiastically.

"I don't know his name so it's up to you, but I can start the introduction," The white haired mischief maker continued and Mariku adopted a similar grin, catching his drift. Clearing his throat slightly, Bakura ran a hand through his hair unconsciously, wild horns of hair springing back up immediately.

"Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, residents of this classroom who are currently as bored as I am with today's class," He announced loudly in his most nonchalant voice, immediately gaining stares from everyone, including the three people at the front of the room.

"Touzoku-san please do not do this today," Sato-sensei begged with exasperation from the front of the room but it only fuelled Bakura's dramatic need to spice of the 'lesson'.

"As you can all see we evidently have a new student. Since nobody else seems capable of introducing our new _friend,_" A lovely sneer to accompany the word friend, "I will take on the honours myself. I'm sure you've all noticed that he has blond hair and tan skin which either makes 'him' a girl or related to the only moderately masculine person in the room who also has blond hair and tan skin. Ishtar?"

"Why thank you for the lovely introduction _Touzoku-san,_" Mariku replied dryly. "What Touzoku-san began to explain is correct. This smartass brat is my younger brother, currently a tenth grade student at Domino High and the only person I know who is capable of bitching until the school will let him take some of his classes early. I assume his excessive whining is why our wonderful Mashido-san is arguing with him like a five year old. Either way, welcome Ishtar Malik to the class," He said in a dramatically exasperated voice though a playful spark flickered in his deep violet eyes which stared straight at his younger brother who was smirking victoriously.

"Thank you for the introduction Mariku. Is there somewhere I can sit as I do plan to join his class?" The newly named kid, Ishtar Malik, addressed Sato-sensei politely with a small humble bow. She blinked, looking uncertain as he swung from argumentative to practically submissive.

Bakura narrowed his eyes, not buying the act at all. Mariku stifled a snicker and Bakura looked up, glancing around to find the source of the joke. Funny, come to think of it there were no open seats except...

Except for the one behind Mariku himself.

Oh the irony.

"Of course Ishtar-san, I will seat you..." She trailed off, visually paling slightly as she saw the two smirking devils in the back and she quickly put two and two together. After all, you couldn't have two troublemakers in one class for more than two weeks and be oblivious to their tricks.

"I suppose you'll have to sit behind your brother," She murmured with an irritated look on her face though there was really nothing she or anyone else could do about it. Malik nodded, slinging his bag over his shoulder and walking over to the desk behind Mariku's cheerfully.

After ushering a very irritable Mashido-san out the door, she had only five minutes left for class and seeing that she had clearly lost most everyone's attention she allowed them to talk amongst themselves, returning to her desk so that she could swallow what looked to be several ibuprofens before collapsing in her chair.

Smirking broadly Bakura dropped his feet from the desk and stood up, making his way over to Ryou's desk. Seeing the direction his troublemaking partner was headed, Mariku was immediately out of his seat, tagging along behind him enthusiastically and completely ignoring his younger brother who was being eyeballed curiously or distastefully by a good portion of the class.

"Pathetic," Bakura mumbled as he reached Ryou though whether he was referring to the fact that his brother was still faithfully finishing the work assigned during class, the people staring at the new Ishtar or Mariku who was fidgeting shyly as he stared at the Touzoku who actually had a work ethic, it was unclear.

Likely he meant all three.

Turning, his piercing gaze sliced through the air, stopping abruptly two desks over and one back to where the new kid was sitting looking strangely innocent and demure. Yah right, Bakura didn't buy that for two seconds.

"Kid," He barked sharply and as though sensing his gaze, the boy looked up, shaking pale blond hair out of his wide lavender eyes. His questioning look said 'why are you talking to me?' At least it was better than not acknowledging he'd been called at all. Bakura strongly disliked oblivious people.

"Come here," He ordered, beckoning him over impatiently and the kid stood up gracefully, walking over on light footsteps, a mix of curiosity and contempt in his gaze.

"I'm not a kid. What do you want?" He asked bluntly and Bakura smiled not-so-nicely, showing sharp canines.

"You're a kid compared to me and since there's two Ishtar's I'm not calling you by your last name."

"Afraid to call me by my first name?" The kid questioned airily with a small glare that made Bakura chuckle dryly.

"Why would I be afraid of you?"

"He might bitch at you until you go insane," Mariku joked, referring to their introduction of him and Malik rolled his eyes. Bakura followed the pattern obsessively. This kid sure was strange to say the least; it was hard understand where he was going with his seemingly random mood swings.

"I'm not scared of bitches," Bakura taunted out loud, trying to draw a reaction.

"Make up your mind, first I'm a smartass brat, then I'm a kid, now I'm a bitch. I'm not going to respond to any of them in the future fluffy, so you better get used to calling me by name," He said stubbornly and Bakura's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"If you ever call me" –Their 'discussion' was interrupted by a small light hearted laugh. Mariku looked like he was about to faint which meant it could only have been one person...standing up from his desk which the other three males were crowded around, Ryou extended a hand to Malik politely, a small smile on his soft face that glowed every sugary emotion you could name.

"Anyone who isn't afraid to call my brother fluffy seems worth getting to know to me. I'm Touzoku Ryou and from their earlier introduction I'm pretty sure you're Ishtar Malik," Ryou said kindly, encouraging the very suspicious teen who slowly nodded, then slid his hand into Ryou's shaking quickly once before retreating again. Mariku looked heartbroken over the gesture.

"Why doesn't he smile at me like that?" He whined and Bakura snorted slightly.

"I'm sure your brother smiles at you all the time," He replied and Mariku glared.

"You know I was talking about" –

"Touzoku...aren't you supposedly in love with one of the Touzoku twins?" Malik asked curiously, eyes shifting between Bakura and Ryou.

"None of your damn business," Mariku growled, eyes flashing.

"Is it you, fluffy?" Malik demanded, rounding on Bakura who bared his canines again in a vicious smile.

"If it was I'd be breaking up with him so that I could kick your ass guilt free," He responded nastily and Malik just rolled his eyes.

"Good, I knew my brother had better taste then that," The kid responded, "Although despite being a complete fruit I didn't think my brother's taste would lie towards such a, ah...pretty...person." Malik's lavender eyes swept over Ryou uncertainly who acted completely oblivious towards the scrutiny.

Bakura snorted, not liking the way Malik's eyes raked over his brother's physique even if it was just to try and figure out what Mariku saw in him.

"Just say it, he looks like a girl, and since he's already gay you'd think he'd be into someone more masculine," He said bluntly and Malik's lips quirked up into a smirk.

"He doesn't look like a girl," Mariku snapped fiercely, glancing between Malik and Ryou quickly. Bakura wouldn't have been surprised if he didn't like the way his brother was 'checking out' Ryou either. It had always been a bit of an unspoken rule between the two that they never let anyone hurt Bakura's far more innocent defenceless twin.

He was a danger magnet as it was although normal people tended to go out of their way to be nice to him like Malik's use of the word 'pretty' instead of 'feminine' or 'girly'.

"Ryou is just as much a man as you are Baku-chan," The older, larger and overall stranger of the two Egyptians insisted.

"Baku-chan? I'm not sure about the 'chan' ending but I think _baka _would suit him better as a nickname," Malik added to the taunting and Bakura blinked, narrowing mahogany eyes at the two. He was starting to think this kid rivalled his brother in strangeness.

Was it fear of his brother that had him taking his side in the argument? Dislike of Bakura? Or something else entirely...what made this kid tick? Bakura wasn't used to being so interested in someone but it didn't really bother him.

Interesting people were just that: _interesting._ Simple people were no fun to figure out but this kid with his mood swings and unexplained jumps from one side of the argument to the other was extremely interesting.

"Insolent brat, I should kick your ass just to show you your place...but then who would help me with my computer problems?" He asked innocently and noticed with the glee that Malik immediately looked uncomfortable. Hah, he had remembered!

"You two have met before?" Ryou questioned politely, looking curious. That was the 'interesting' thing about Ryou though he was a fairly simplistic if still different person. Despite his sweet, giving disposition his curiosity set him apart.

Unlike Bakura who was only curious about people who proved themselves to be very interesting, Ryou acted like he wanted to know everything about everyone all the time no matter who they were or how they met.

"Not real" –Malik began quickly now thoroughly taken aback by the subject turn but Bakura's smirk shut him down as he said, "Just briefly, I never even caught his name, but yah we met before. Think I should share, Mariku?"

Mariku caught the teasing tone of his devious white haired partner's words and grinned cruelly, nodding enthusiastically, Ryou insults forgotten.

"Oh poor kid looks embarrassed. Well he needs some sort of initiation, do share," Mariku egged him on, throwing an arm around his younger brother's shoulder who shrugged him away with disgust.

"I'm not embarrassed; I don't give a da" –

"Ah, ah! You're too young for such language," Bakura chided patronizingly getting the appropriately frustrated response.

"I'm only a couple months younger than all three of you! I can say whatever the _fuck_ I want," The younger Ishtar snarled childishly, dark kohl marks wrinkling with the folds of golden skin around those gorgeously intense eyes.

Wow, was that lust Bakura felt? Damn right it was. Ryou had looked like he was going to cut in and beg Malik out of the situation but his fighting response had him muffling a laugh carefully.

"How about you Ryou, do you think I should tell the story?" Bakura asked mischievously rounding on his much nicer twin who widened his chocolate brown eyes, pink lips parting a little like a surprised little kid –or a girl.

"I...um...no comment?" He offered with a cheesy hopeful grin as he glanced worriedly from an irritable Malik to his eager twin. Bakura didn't miss the way his eyes had barely strayed in Mariku's direction before pulling them away.

Ouch, poor Mariku, even Ryou's mere body language rejected him on a daily basis. Such a hopeless romance just waiting to happen...but that wasn't Bakura's focus right now. He could care less about that for the most part, if Ryou ever gave into Mariku it would be one less pain in the ass.

It wasn't something he was in a position to deal with anyways. But this brat who needed a lesson in controlling his tongue...

"Close enough to a yes," He said dryly with a small eye roll.

"So? Tell us already," Mariku said impatiently, mood not improved by Ryou's avoidance of him.

"Alright, keep your pants on, _fruit,_" Bakura responded with a cruel twist of his brother's earlier words.

"Oh but Bakura you know I" –Mariku's usual snappily teasing response of how much he wanted to get out of his pants and into Bakura's was brought to a jagged uncertain halt as he glanced at Ryou who was not one for sex jokes.

He mumbled something under his breath, glaring at Bakura who smirked victoriously. He loved taking advantage of Mariku's 'disease' as he so fondly called it. Glancing at Malik who folded his arms and sighed harshly, obviously ticked, Bakura decided to tell the story.

Actually he'd decided to get it out there from the moment he recognized Ishtar Malik but they didn't need to know that...

**A/N: Next chapter the story of Bakura and Malik's previous meeting will be revealed! So if anyone is actually reading this, what'd you think? Hope you liked it! Try not to die all you kiddies (including me) who are going back to school!**


	2. Thief King Touzokusama

**A/N: So I started this chapter with a little bit from last chapter just so it wasn't totally out of nowhere, but most of the chapter is in flashback mode anyways. Thus the big flashback sign, in case you didn't notice it. Yes, where it says flashback/end flashback it means flashback/end flashback. Shocking, I know. Hope you all enjoy and thanks so much for the awesome reviews :D**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

Glancing at Malik who folded his arms and sighed harshly, obviously ticked, Bakura decided to tell the story. Actually he'd decided to get it out there from the moment he recognized Ishtar Malik but they didn't need to know that...

"It was about a week ago, after school, you know when I had to stay for that stupid lab report that Jounouchi ditched me on?"

**Flashback**

"_Fucking...stupid...work damn it!" Bakura cursed helplessly, kicking the useless printer viciously. _

"_That won't actually help you know," A voice behind him pointed out dryly and he stiffened but didn't give whoever it was the satisfaction of jumping, instead turning coolly to get a look at who it was. After all there were plenty of people who had reasons to jump him from behind in the deserted school an hour after the bell had rung and everyone had left. _

_Well, maybe he was a little paranoid but still, better safe than sorry. _

"_What's it to you?" He growled rather rudely. It wasn't like this guy had come bearing rainbows and polite introductions either. _

"_I may be able to help a damsel in distress," The guy replied with a smirk. The irony of his words was simply too much for Bakura to handle –plus he didn't like anyone talking to him in such a condescending way. That was his job! _

"_Have you looked in the mirror lately, kid? I'm not the girl here," Bakura said with a snort then turned back to the printer, checking once again for the warning signal but it showed none. The thing had more than enough paper and ink, what else did it need? _

_He'd rather fail this project Jounouchi had dumped on him then ask for help from girly-man back there though. Speaking of which... _

"_Well you must have determined by now the problem isn't with the printer. If anything kicking it will just make it worse," The other boy said lazily, voice winding over from a couple feet over where the only currently live computer sat humming slightly. _

"_I kick what I want to kick whether it's a printer, a computer, or a queer kid with a talent for annoying the wrong people," He responded, loosely threatening but he didn't really feel the need to beat this kid up._

_Crossing to stand behind the kid who had now sat and was clicking away with the mouse on the screen, he crossed his arms. For one thing he didn't hit people who had their backs to them. For another he wasn't polite and he occasionally had violent tendencies but if he wanted to fight he usually just taunted the person into making the first move then beat the crap out of them. _

_Turning slightly the kid tilted his head up at him, white blond hair falling to one side as he pierced him with one surprisingly sharp lavender eye that might dazzle a lesser person. Hm...Just the same, he was kind of hot for an annoying kid._

_Bakura wasn't usually one for the feminine type though and his attitude would be a problem...it wasn't that Bakura liked easy, he just didn't like people who thought he was being romantic when he flirted. He had no doubt he could be romantic if he so desired but he had never desired anyone outside of the physical. _

_So generally he counted having an 'attitude' as bad as far as his flings went. _

"_Queer? I assume by that comment you meant to imply that I was gay since proper English doesn't apply to the average population. What makes you think that I'm interested in other men?" He was kind of a smartass wasn't he? Not to mention extremely cheeky. _

_Was Bakura attracted to cheeky? He might have been, had he been capable of attraction. No, this was just lust and as much as cheeky was interesting, smartass was just _annoying_. _

"_The fact that you look like a girl even though you're obviously a m –no, you're obviously a boy," Bakura self corrected obviously with a condescending smirk that accented the lack of the word 'man'. The kid just rolled his eyes, turning back to the computer. _

_It was silent and Bakura wondered if he had actually shut up the kid. He was a little disappointed if he was to be honest. Not that he was often honest out loud about that sort of thing. _

"_I wouldn't look even close to feminine if I took off my shirt. You can't judge me by what you see of my face," The kid said out of nowhere then sprung up from his chair and crossed to the printer that was now spitting out sheets of paper rapidly. _

_If there had been any hope of convincing Bakura he wasn't 'queer' before then there was no use trying now after that little comment. He might as well scream boy crush with the way he was hitting on him while mouthing off at the same time. _

_It was kind of extremely hot. _

"_By the way it wasn't the printer or the computer, I just needed to install the printer, a lot of the older computers" –_

"_Yah, got it, didn't care, still don't, shut up," Bakura said flatly. The kid sent him an indignant look then snatched up the papers for the lab report and held them close to his chest._

"_Alright, payment time snow white," He said, turning with a cheeky smile to Bakura who looked at him blankly, if anything irked by the ridiculous nickname. Seeing that the kid wasn't going to expand he rolled his eyes and asked the obvious, "What payment?" _

"_Payment for knowing how to do what you couldn't," The kid explained smugly. With his pink lips quirked up like that and a gleam of mischief to his lavender eyes, Bakura had no doubt he'd hold the report hostage until he got what he wanted. _

"_What's the price then, I haven't got all day," He responded impatiently. _

"_You choose," Blondie replied easily with a small shrug. _

_Bakura eyed the papers in his arms carefully before saying, "And if it's up to standard you hand over the papers?" Normally he wouldn't play this game at all but he was in a hurry and he had no idea what the hell the kid had done to get the stupid machine to cough out the pages in the first place. _

_He didn't fancy another couple hours in this place trying to make it do it again either. _

"_Mostly I'm just curious to see what you give up," The kid said flippantly and Bakura smirked. He should not have said that._

"_Whatever you say fruit loop, but just remember, you made the rules," Bakura warned and rather than apprehension, interest flashed across the kid's face. Was he cracked or what? Whatever, it just made it more fun. _

_Reaching out a hand he curled it around the papers and this time those lavender eyes narrowed suspiciously. Oh yah loads of fun, he thought gleefully. Wrenching the kid forward he gave a small splutter of surprise, tightening his grip on the papers but then found his chin forced upwards by a very strong insistent hand. _

_His gaze, laced with a little fear now flickered downward to where Bakura's thumb curled under the pressure point of his jaw, his other slender white fingers spread up his cheek like those of a piano player. _

"_Your rules," He taunted again, voice gentle and purring as he tilted the kid's chin up even further. Hm, he didn't even know fruit loops name. That was almost disappointing. The pulse he could strategically feel beneath his thumb was a little faster than normal so either this kid was cursing his own rules or thanking his lucky stars that he snared Bakura in his trap. _

_Oh if he only knew who exactly he had caught and just how caught he was in a much more skilful trap. No less juvenile, but still –skilful. From the way he wasn't struggling Bakura deduced his boy crush theory was most accurate at the moment. _

_He couldn't help a small smirk as he leaned towards the kid, tempted to actually kiss him just to see if he'd try and play it off like he wasn't looking forward to every second of it...but his pride wouldn't let him. _

_His hand around the kid's jaw tightened, pushing him backwards while the hand on the papers jerked upward, effectively forcing the kid to drag them both to the ground or let go and he wisely chose the let go option. _

_Bakura's smirk widened as he flashed the now slightly wrinkled papers in the kids face. He glared back, lavender eyes narrowed and hateful, sparkling dangerously in contrast to the warm golden skin. _

"_Jackass," He hissed and Bakura absorbed the word with affection. He loved to win after all. _

"_Aw, did the boy crush wear off that fast? Or did you just really want that kiss?" He was taunting again and enjoying it as his mahogany reddish brown eyes stared at the other boy intensely. "You should know who you're messing with and stealing from the thief king is not a good strategy kid," He said flippantly, not giving him a chance to respond as he all but skipped towards the door. _

_Skip and annoy the kid or skip and lose his pride? He chose to walk with a small bounce. Today was turning out better then he'd imagined! _

"_So you are the thief king, Touzoku." Making Bakura freeze in his steps wasn't an easy task but on occasion he was surprised enough to do so. This was one of those occasions. _

"_I see my reputation precedes me. I prefer Thief King Touzoku-sama but kids are very impertinent these days," He replied with an exaggerated sigh but when he turned back to the kid it was with a glare to those reddish brown eyes that narrowed slightly suspiciously. _

_Sure people had heard of the thief king but they didn't often straight out connect the name Touzoku with it. _

"_Please, I've gotten away with just as much as you; you just caught me by surprise with your little kissing trick. I thought I was supposed to be the fruit," The kid scoffed, planting a hand on his hip. He had very slender hips. _

_Well if Bakura had to waste his time arguing with some kid it might as well be with an exotically hot and obviously intelligent kid. _

"_Besides," The kid continued with a devious expression on his face that suddenly didn't look so feminine, "There are two Touzoku's, twins from what I've heard. One is a bastard which fits you perfectly and the other is very pretty. The bastard is rumoured to be very well...acquainted with the thief king, which I always thought was extremely suspicious. The white hair marks you pretty obviously as a Touzoku though and you're obviously a tricky bastard. I'd love to see this twin of yours though if you're not the pretty one," The kid explained, short and simple with a cheeky expression at the end. _

_Well if that wasn't blatantly hitting on him, he didn't know what was. _

"_Fruits do tend to be attracted to Thief King Touzoku-sama," He responded, flashing a sharp toothed grin. He had seen Ryou's reactions to it enough times to know he wasn't just being egotistical when he thought it looked frightening. _

"_If I hear that name circling though...there's not that many kid's like you around this school," He said lightly but the threat was there darkening his tone like a stain on a white rug. _

"_Please," The kid was scoffing again, twisting tan fingers through platinum blond hair. There was something familiar about that hair. _

"_Why would I want to share my knowledge with the other idiots around here? It would go right over their heads. Most people find it hard to appreciate a thief king after all, I just wanted to meet you to see if you're all they crack you up to be." _

_Bakura smirked appreciatively despite the uppity tone that showed the kid was still trying to save his own pride. _

"_Well now you see that I am," He said shortly, and then finished exiting the room as abruptly as the kid had entered. Who cared if it was rude? The thief king never claimed to be a nice person, not even to interesting exotically hot strangers._

**Present**

"And I thought you were being so smart," Bakura sighed, shaking his head dramatically, "Now I realize you probably pieced it all together from seeing me hang out with Mariku then stalked me there to try and..._impress_ me."

'The kid' AKA Ishtar Malik gave him a dirty look at the clear flirting reference.

"Bullshit, yes I recognized you as a Touzoku but I never claimed not to, I even said I recognize your hair," He scoffed with disgust. "To think I almost let you kiss me," He added with an obvious shudder, tossing Bakura another barbed glare.

Obviously the story didn't make him shine though it added to his overall cheeky and intelligent look that was already glaringly obvious from the second he walked into the room.

"Really, _Thief King Touzoku-sama_...someone's ego was a bit overstuffed that day, don't you think?" Mariku said dryly but Bakura saw the disapproving look he was sending between his brother and his friend.

"It's not my fault you're brother is a stalker slut," He gloated and Ryou gasped, looking horrified.

"Bakura! You can't just call someone a slut, that's completely rude," He admonished before Mariku or Malik could respond.

"Did I not describe how much he wanted me to kiss him? _He _stalked _me_ and you're mad at me?" He complained indignantly but Ryou held his ground, spreading his feet to plant a hand on his hips. Malik gagged at the disgustingly adoring look on his brother's face though seeing Ryou stand up to his more aggressive twin was slightly impressive given his rather meek physique.

"I didn't stalk you," Malik corrected once again through gritted teeth.

"He helped you and not only did you not thank him, you stole from him then rubbed it in his face. It's _rude_," Ryou insisted and Bakura stared at him blankly then groaned with frustration.

"Somebody explain to him everything that was wrong with that logic," He begged out loud and Malik laughed quietly. Both Bakura and Mariku's eyes snapped onto him in a second.

"What? You two are ridiculous when you argue," Malik defended, pulling his arms closer to his body as he looked up at them with an innocent glare.

"I told you he was into me," Bakura gloated and Malik blinked owlishly then scowled, a light pink tint playing under the tan tone of his skin.

"I am _not_ into you. My brother's the fruit, make out with him," He growled but when both Mariku and Bakura started cracking up his scowl deepened, turning it more or less into a pout.

"Oh yes Mariku, let's make out," Bakura suggested as he caught his breath and Mariku glanced gleefully at his brother.

"He's even blushing, how cute! Do you think he'd cry if we did make out?"

"Only one way to find out," Bakura purred, fluttering his lashes at Mariku in mock-flirtation.

"No hickies," Mariku warned, advancing on him and Bakura laughed throatily.

"No promises," He responded with a wicked grin, as Mariku grabbed him roughly around the waist.

"Please don't do this..." The voice was quiet, sad, sighing and definitely not Malik's. Mariku was off of Bakura in half a heartbeat, backpedalling furiously.

"I wasn't actually going to kiss him," He said, guilty voice laced with shame as Bakura rolled his eyes as his 'softness' and Malik watched the way Ryou controlled him so easily with interest.

True the 'prettier' twin was quite attractive with his slightly rounded cheeks, perfectly pouted full lips and long white locks falling in his face but it was those huge puppy dog eyes that suckered Mariku in until he gladly would have fallen on his knees and begged redemption.

They hardly hesitated on Mariku though, skipping instead to Bakura who looked disgusted by his friend's weakness. He cared about his brother though he rarely expressed that verbally but not enough to stop his fun just because it upset Ryou a little.

"If you're going to be cruel do it when I'm not around, please," Ryou requested bluntly and pain flashed across Mariku's face and Bakura even flinched a little. Being the adorable goodie two shoes that he was, Ryou was the only one in the group that possessed the ability to inflict damage to the two troublemaker's consciences.

"I was just teasing a little," Bakura mumbled with annoyance but there was guilt evident on his face –not for Malik, definitely not, he just didn't like seeing Ryou so worked up. Even if the kid did have a little crush on him it was better he learn now that Bakura didn't do relationships rather than later.

As it was Malik was proving very difficult to read and he found it impossible to tell if he actually did have a crush on him or not. He stood by what he said though, he _was_ a fruit and he _was_ going to prove it...somehow...eventually.

**A/N: This scene isn't over yet, I know it ended really abruptly but it was starting to get pretty long and I wanted to save the next bit for the next chapter :D Thanks for the numerous wonderful reviews, I loved them they made me so, so happy! Also, when I had Bakura title himself 'Thief King Touzoku-sama' this chapter I was kind of basing it off the way he always says ore-sama in the Japanese version. He's so conceited (yet hot)!**


	3. Forbidden

**A/N: Okay so I tried to wait a decent amount of time to update this...it's so hard to wait when you have pre-written stuff xD Well, I hope people enjoy this chapter at least! Things are starting to get weirder.**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

"Ryou," Malik said in a strangely soft voice. What had Bakura just been thinking about how impossible this kid was? Now what was he doing for Ra sake?

"Yes, um, Malik?" Ryou responded politely, clearly a little surprised at the informal greeting but not too bothered by it.

"Even if they did make out, it wouldn't have bothered me so don't worry," He assured the whitette with a dazzling smile. Ryou didn't look much at ease and Bakura laughed, the chilling sound of his light maniacal chuckle seeming to make the very air itself shiver. Malik shot him a fiery look and Ryou looked a little nervous at the sound.

"That wasn't your best move kid," He said darkly, voice rasping with cold promises and Ryou swallowed noticeably.

"Bakura whatever your about to say, think about it before you do," He pleaded weakly but Bakura chose to ignore him, mahogany eyes trained coldly on Malik who turned to face him like a stone wall, jaw set firmly for whatever was coming.

"Hitting on Ryou is forbidden," He said flatly like a very scary parent, not a ghost of a smirk present on his face. He would crucify anyone other than Mariku who hit on his twin.

"I wasn't" –

"_Forbidden,_" Bakura repeated through gritted teeth, not giving the irked blond a chance to deny the claim.

"Geez, jealous much?" He scoffed instead with that cheeky expression on his face that was scarily similar to Bakura's smirk.

"Jealous?" Bakura asked curiously then realized what he meant. "Of _Ryou?_ Hell no, anyone who hits on Ryou will be dead in two days with you as an exception." Malik almost looked flattered for a second then was smart enough to wipe it off his face, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"Why am I an exception?"

"Because Mariku won't kill his own brother even if he is a brat," Bakura explained, voice _dripping_ love. Had Malik actually thought he had a crush on him? That was just nuts; Bakura had never had a crush on anyone, least of all a kid with an attitude problem.

Not that said kid with an attitude problem could know that, but still.

"I wouldn't count on that, I think he loves _RyRy _over there more than me," Malik responded instantaneously, mocking his brother openly, forcing Bakura to rethink his last thought.

The only person who was even close to being as interesting as Malik was Mariku and if he had wanted to hook up with he would have had to do it long ago. The thief king Touzoku-sama was great but not great enough to turn back time.

"N-no, Mariku-san is just a...um...well he's kind of a..." Ryou tried to deny it but he couldn't even seem to force the word friend out of his mouth. After all, he'd known the guy since sixth grade and he was still calling him 'Mariku-san' five years later.

"Friend? You don't even feel like you can call me a _friend?_" Mariku demanded, opening his mouth for the first time since Ryou slammed it shut with guilt. Bakura took a legitimately concerned look at his friend's face. Emotions were haywire across it, flashing hurt, longing, hesitation and indignation all at once.

"I never really thought about it before..." Ryou murmured but the lie was so painfully obvious on his innocent face he might as well have slapped Mariku.

"Alright," He deadpanned simply in response, shifting his gaze away from Ryou's feet to a different portion of the floor like a kicked and rejected puppy. Bakura shot a glare at his brother who was normally so sensitive and sweet yet could break the pride of his mischievous friend with one word or the lack thereof.

Ryou's eyes were wide; his lips parted silently in panic and confusion. The silence was awkward and Ryou froze up, unable or unwilling to find anything to say.

Bakura concluded he needed to have a serious talk with his friend and his twin, whether he wanted to or not.

Mariku stared at the floor stubbornly, likely gathering the tattered remains of his will to simply keep breathing.

Malik stared at his brother, eyes curious and a little sad over the thick painful silence.

"Would you stop staring damn it?" Mariku snapped out of nowhere, dark mauve eyes flickering up to his younger siblings face then glaring harshly. Malik jumped half a foot in the air and then took an involuntary step back.

"Sure," He said tentatively, obviously unable to look at Ryou for fear of being murdered and unable to look at Mariku for fear of...well...being murdered, so his gaze fell on Bakura who was still looking moodily at his freaked out brother, bloodied brown eyes flashing irritably as they switched to look at Malik.

Though he didn't snap like Mariku had the message was clear: _quite staring retard. _

Malik started to look away but then dragged his gaze back, unable to put down his pride and be submissive. The mixed mash of emotions inside him were hard to sort, he could only go with whatever he was feeling at the moment so for now he stared straight into those satanic eyes that seemed to possess him whenever he looked into them.

About ten seconds into their little staring match and he couldn't have looked away if he wanted to.

About twenty seconds in, Bakura did, switching back to look at Ryou who was now nibbling on the corner of his lower lip, staring at the desk.

Mariku was devastated, Ryou was a mess, Malik was some sort of emotional rollercoaster with hormones thrown in on legs and that left Bakura as the logical one.

Scary, huh?

"Ryou, go to lunch, I'll catch up with you later," Bakura said shortly and Ryou looked up at him with surprise, and then towards Mariku guiltily. "Go already," He snapped a little more harshly and Ryou nodded with shame colouring his face, grabbing his bag and scurrying out of the room.

Turning back to Malik distastefully he said, "Go with him, since you're still here you're obviously on our lunch and I need someone to make sure he doesn't get his ass kicked. He's stupid when he's upset." Red eyes flickered in Mariku's direction obviously, making his subtle underlying point clear.

Ryou wasn't the only stupid-while-upset one. Malik looked like he wanted to argue but seeing the way Mariku was starting to get agitated, dangerously so now that Ryou wasn't in the room, he had to rethink his words.

"I'm not going as a favour or because I'm afraid," He denied quickly when Bakura followed his gaze. Actually, the only thing he had heard him referred to as so far was 'Baku-chan' which obviously was a mocking pet name, not his real one.

Impatience flashed across that deadly pale face, full of angles and hidden anger as he made a small noise of dangerous agitation, flashing pointed canines.

"I don't do favours, only deals. If you want me to go you have to make me a deal," Malik said hurriedly, glancing at Mariku who was now shifting, clenching his fists open and closed as he spat out what Malik recognized as Arabic curse words under his breath.

"Well what the fuck do you want, a make out?" Bakura snapped. He didn't have time to deal with this kid's insecurities. No favours his ass, the kid just wanted to look tough. At the moment his boy crush theory was still running strong.

"No, I want to know your name and I want you to call me by my name. My _first _name," Malik said firmly and Bakura actually looked taken aback by the strange request for a moment.

"Um..." He said intelligently and they both jumped (though neither would ever admit it) when a loud BANG announced Mariku viciously kicking the desk in front of Ryou's.

"Sure, whatever, just go find my brother damn it," Bakura snapped, tough guy persona back in play. Malik hesitated but figured he'd been childish enough for one day and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Bakura watched him go out of the corner of his eye. Malik and strange seemed to go hand in hand. One minute making demands the next minute quietly understanding. He didn't know how to deal with him yet he found it much easier to interact with him than to interact with the other social idiots in the school.

Huh, three friends in one class.

Strange indeed.

...

Malik glanced around the busy cafeteria. Where the hell could a guy with blatantly white hair have disappeared to so quickly? Quickly growing frustrated and knowing he had to hold his end of the deal with the Thief King or 'Baku-chan', which he refused to refer to him as, he mounted a chair, standing tall and surveying the room.

Several people snickered and he iced them all with a perfect glare. Some people just didn't appreciate honesty anymore. Not that he was an overly nice or honest person he was...well, he didn't really know what he was.

Not nice but not a liar. He always kept his deals. Definitely cynical because he knew the world wasn't coated in sugar and if you bit off more then you could chew you'd choke to death. If he was honest he had no idea about much of anything anymore.

Things got more confusing with every day and he just wanted all the spinning to stop. He wanted to know who he was and how things were and to just stop wondering _all the time_ about who _he_ was and how _he_ should act according to situations and...it just needed to stop.

It was like constantly being drunk and unable to walk a straight line. He kept feeling like he was veering off track but he didn't know where the track was exactly. Sometimes he thought he'd hit the right spot, like with 'Thief King Touzoku-sama' but that was even scarier than feeling off track.

Was he _gay_?

Maybe...he'd entertained the possibility before. He didn't want to fully accept that though. Part of it was seeing how pathetic his brother had become, completely unhinged by one person, resorting to swearing and kicking desks to take out his anger.

He didn't want that. He really, _really_ didn't want that and he knew if he fell for Thief King Touzoku-sama, ridiculous title and all, that's what he'd be reduced to as well.

The Thief King had no use for him; he'd made it very clear. He didn't like that either though. Damn this drunken confusion his life had become lately. Damn it all. And damn it all the more _where was Ryou?_

Hopping down from the chair he approached one of the people who had been snickering up at him before. The girl was fairly generic and overall a boring drone of today's society from what her look portrayed...perfect, she probably liked to keep up with gossip.

"Hey," He said smoothly, and she turned just in time to be snared by glossy lavender eyes that blinked innocently at her above a small only slightly suggestive smile. Whoosh, up went the color in her cheeks. He resisted the urge to laugh.

Maybe being gay would be alright as long as it was over someone like the Thief King. It would give him some challenge at least unlike this girl. Some of his brain informed him these thoughts were cruel but he pushed that aside.

"Have you seen R –err, the prettier Touzoku around?" She probably wouldn't know Ryou's first name unless she was in a class with him. Something told him neither Mariku nor Bakura liked people getting close to their 'RyRy'.

To his surprise the girl made a face and he quickly let his eyes trail her body, lingering on her face again so she wouldn't do something ridiculous because she was jealous. Little did he know that wasn't the case.

"Didn't get enough of Touzoku last class?" She snorted and he almost admired her bravery –except that it was behind the twin's backs and therefore completely pathetic.

"I suppose not...is there a reason you dislike him?" He asked hesitantly, not wanting to start a conversation, but curious now. Why would Ryou give someone such a clear reason to dislike him?

Unless she thought he was referring to the Thief King Touzoku-sama as the 'prettier Touzoku' which didn't make much sense. Ryou was clearly the 'prettier' of the two with his feminine looks. Bakura was far too harsh and dare he think it...sexy to be referred to as _pretty._

"Well, it's not that I dislike _him,_" The girl looked extremely uncomfortable all of a sudden, probably wishing she hadn't opened her mouth.

"Then...you dislike his brother or Mariku?" Bingo! She flushed a bit more although she couldn't hide her scowl when he said Mariku's name.

"No disrespect to your brother," _No disrespect to you lady but that's bullshit_, Malik thought, "But he could bear to lighten up a bit. He practically bit me for saying hi to Touzoku-chan!" She complained and Malik nearly gagged. It didn't matter if a person was gay, straight or bisexual, no guy in his self respecting opinion should be labelled with the _chan_ ending_. _

"Agreed but unfortunately, love is blinding and my brother's an idiot," He said melodramatically and she giggled a little, liking his antics, he assumed dryly. Ugh, he needed to get out of here before he really started flirting with her.

Why oh why were his emotions so screwed up lately?

"So anyways, have you seen him since last period?" He asked abruptly and she blinked at his change of attitude but gave a small accepting shrug. For all he knew she was cheating on her boyfriend right now anyways.

"Yah, he was in the cafe line but he's probably been through there by now. He and his brother and...your brother...usually sit near the doors," She pointed distastefully to the far end of the cafeteria.

He thanked her politely but went on his way without lingering. No more distractions, he made a deal and it was time to hold up his end of the bargain.

**A/N: I tried to describe Bakura's Japanese laugh in this chapter...that is the sexiest most chilling sound ever, it makes me shiver every time xD Ugh, it was so hard to write the second part without using Bakura's name hardly at all. Thief King Touzoku-sama is quite the...type-full you know! Anyone curious about Mariku and Ryou's relationship? Well it's about to get weirder, so I hope you're excited for the next chapter ;) (If anyone's even reading this that is...)**


	4. Dirty

**A/N: Wow, can I just say that the reviews for this story are amazing? I didn't get very many for the last chapter, but the ones I did made me incredibly happy so thank you all so much! I haven't been this encouraged to continue writing a story in a long time, so hopefully you're all enjoying it and like this new chapter. Things are about to get confusing, so strap on your seatbelts and get out your aspirin! **

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

He found Ryou after a good minute of searching again, seated relatively close to the doors she had pointed out and he memorized the spot so he wouldn't have to flirt with anymore annoying strangers to find it again.

Didn't most almost-sixteen-year-old-guys like flirting with girls? He tried to remember if she'd been good looking. Fairly pretty but Malik found himself liking more of the unique type lately. Did the Thief King count as unique?

Well he was sure one of a kind except for his mostly-identical twin who he was now standing right in front of. Ryou's long shockingly white locks looked more frazzled then they had before as though fingers had been run through them and as he watched a ghostly white hand reached up to tug fruitlessly on them. Ah, that explained the messiness.

"Come here often?" He asked blandly, and then plunked himself down in the chair next to Ryou's. The other boy glanced up in surprise before despair drowned those soppy brown eyes once again. Malik felt guilt twinge in his gut even though he'd done nothing wrong but when Ryou looked sad there was nothing you could do _but_ feel bad.

"That's the head of the table. My brother and Mariku always argue about who gets to sit there," Ryou murmured quietly and the insignificant detail made Malik realize just how close these three must be.

"I like a good challenge," Was his response and Ryou laughed a little though it had a sad lilt to it.

"Now you sound like my brother. He's always getting himself in trouble but Mariku's always there to...help him out...God, I have no idea what to do!" A slight wail crept into his voice and Malik flinched.

It wasn't that he blamed Ryou, nothing about the situation they had just escaped from had been good, he just wasn't sure how _he_ was supposed to be helping. He was only here because the Thief King had asked him to!

Otherwise he'd rather have been the one staying to tough it out with his upset brother...still, worth a shot, he'd dealt with Mariku, how much harder could this be?

"Well...what do you want to do?" Malik asked as the first thing that popped into his head and Ryou groaned slightly, pushing his untouched food away to bury his head in his arms.

"I want to make the whole thing go away. I want to pretend I don't know Mariku likes me and I want to pretend it doesn't matter how I feel about him!"

Malik thought over those words carefully before responding. It sounded an offal lot like Ryou was saying he had feelings for Mariku and just didn't know how to deal with them, but that might be self reflecting on his part.

"Do you like him?" He finally asked outright and Ryou raised his head to give him a tortured look. O...kay...wrong question. He decided to try again, fingering one of his heavy weighted golden earrings. It was completely smooth from all the times he'd fiddled with it in the past to sooth his nerves.

"I know we just met and I'm kind of –I mean I probably didn't come off as the type of person you'd want to be friends with but keep in mind I'm just trying to help," He said quickly and to his surprise a small smile tucked the corner of Ryou's mouth.

"The type of person I'd want to be friends with? Have you _seen_ my closest friends?" The whitette asked with a small giggle as Malik blinked blankly, not sure what that meant and finally unbidden the image of Mariku and the Thief King making his official 'class introduction' popped into his head making him snicker slightly until they were both laughing quietly.

"Okay I see your point," He said when Ryou stopped laughing enough to sigh again. "I think, if my brother and possibly your brother will let me, I'd like to be someone you can trust Ryou," He said honestly and at the moment it felt honest.

It felt good to be a regular almost-sixteen-year-old trying to help out a friend in need instead of trying to fit into an upper grade classroom or figure out his other confusing emotions. What really scared him was that the feeling might not stay honest.

Right now he wanted to help...later he might want to take advantage of Ryou's trust. It was the reason he had worked so hard to move up a grade. Other kids his age were just too easy to work with, get along with and then steam roll over when he decided he wanted something.

His ambition was one of the things he had always clung to because it was one of the things he understood about himself. Unfortunately he didn't always _like_ his ambition.

"It's not...trust...I mean I want to get to know you and I already feel like I sort of do having spent so much time around our brothers but...it's just not something I can...deal with. I know Mariku thinks he loves me but it's not true."

Ryou's words slapped Malik in the face and he looked around nervously, almost expecting to see another shattered Mariku standing there. Seeing the expression on his face, Ryou's immediately turned to one of alarm.

"I didn't mean it like that! It's not that I think your brother is _intentionally _lying to me, it's just we have a bit of a past and...I barely know you but I can trust you because you haven't hurt me."

"He hurt you?" Malik immediately asked and Ryou shook his head but the tight line of his mouth and the way he averted his eyes screamed _liar._

"He never laid a finger on me," Ryou said shakily but there was fear in those wide brown eyes and had Malik been a less intelligent person he would have narrowed his eyes openly but instead he just nodded slowly.

"He always has been a bastard, I don't blame you for not liking him back but you should tell him," Malik advised seriously as much as he itched to ask what exactly Mariku had done to earn so much distrust from someone like Ryou of all people. He wondered if it had happened back during Mariku's 'bad days'.

Like he said though, they had only just met even if with the seriousness of the situation it didn't feel that way. Maybe he'd ask his brother. Or maybe he'd just wait like a normal person and hope Ryou opened up to him on his own. Ryou moaned again, tugging his hair in both hands in clear frustration.

"I do like him though!" He blurted and Malik felt shocked all over again. It was sort of like being electrocuted, sharp and mind clearing but also painful and numbing at the same time.

"..." Was all that came out of his slightly open mouth which was less than nothing.

So Mariku was 'in love' with Ryou despite some sort of shady not-so-pleasant past they shared, Ryou was civil but obviously slightly terrified of Mariku and yet also liked him enough to push himself to his limits...yah that made a ton of sense.

"No! I didn't mean to say that," Ryou mourned, then his head shot up, releasing his hair in favour of holding Malik's hand in death grip that conveyed along with those expressive eyes just how afraid he was.

"Please...please Malik...don't ever tell anyone I said that. Especially not Mariku, please, I can't raise his hopes when I don't...when I can't...just don't tell anyone, please!" Malik's head spun and he lost count of how many times Ryou had said 'please' in one sentence, tone terrified and begging all at the same time.

"Um, of course I won't, it's your secret. I hate to see you on bad terms with my brother since you clearly both...care about each other...to some degree, but Mariku will bounce back on his own, he always does," He said in what was hopefully a somewhat reassuring way, patting Ryou's hand awkwardly.

Ryou relaxed with an audible sigh, the pulled his hands back hastily.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to" –

"No biggie," Malik waved the useless apology away. Ryou still looked pretty melancholy but Malik could see the twisted relief on his face as well. He clearly hadn't been lying when he said he thought he could trust Malik and besides, who better to tell your problems to other then an almost-stranger?

No doubt the truth had been suffocating him for awhile now, sitting on his chest and just waiting for a chance to be released.

"You really think he'll forgive me?" Ryou asked after a long moment and Malik almost said the generic 'of course he will' but thought better of it. Ryou was fragile but he wasn't a child.

"If I tell you the truth will you tell me one truth?" He bargained and Ryou shot him a strange look then gave a small nod. Malik immediately felt guilt shoot through him again. Already he was abusing that trust.

Well at least he had good reason for it this time...his ambition had decided rather forcefully that this pathetic situation could use some cleaning up and hopefully some resolving. Maybe the Thief King would even be up for helping him in his conquest. The thought made him want to laugh bitterly but he thought better of it before the sound could escape.

"First tell me why you can't tell Mariku how you feel," He 'requested' and there, bam, fear, like a flashing caution-this-guy-is-about-to-have-a-mental-break-down sign flashed across the softer Touzoku's face.

"You don't have to tell me exactly why or anything I just want to know what it was that you were feeling that made you freeze up when Mariku got upset earlier," Malik clarified. Ryou's face shut down, drawing closed behind his blank brown eyes that now seemed like shutters instead of open windows.

"He just makes me feel so...and he knows the way he treated me before...he makes me feel so..." It was like that hollow voice was on replay but Malik didn't have half a heart to be annoyed. He could only pity how lost and hurt Ryou suddenly looked.

He wondered momentarily if Ryou was just as confused as he was but no, Ryou knew what he was feeling, he just didn't seem to be able to get the words to come out.

"He makes you feel so...?" Malik prompted gently, sliding a golden hand over Ryou's strikingly white one that lay on the table limply now, the other supporting his chin.

"So dirty," Ryou whispered in a scarred, frightened almost childish tone, dark fear flickering across his face as he looked to Malik with wide eyes. Malik blinked, not having expected that. He almost blurted out more questions, that horrified tone of voice that expressed deep pain the only thing stopping him.

Dirty in what way? Sexually, mentally, physically? Or was it that past he had mentioned before? Why did he have to say '_dirty_' so damn vaguely? But he promised not to ask.

"It's okay Ryou," The look on Ryou's face said it wasn't okay, not at all, but Malik still had to try. "Whatever Mariku did to you...of course I don't know so it's hard for me to say but I do know he really honestly thinks he loves you and you clearly have some feelings for him as well. My brother can be a bit of a bastard and hard to get along with but he cares about you and whatever it is your feeling I'm sure he'd at least try and understand."

More of that terror flickering over scared brown eyes that melted into that fear Ryou seemed oh so familiar with.

"You can't" –Malik's finger was on his soft pink lips, stopping his words. Wow, okay, bad idea, Malik could feel the heat of his delicate skin, his breath against his finger...he pulled away, not wanting to think about his own issues right now.

For Ra sake, he was a boy and Ryou was a boy and...not the point! Ryou was a boy who had _problems_ that he was supposed to be helping with. All the same he pulled his finger away quickly.

"Shh, I'm not telling anybody, I already said I wouldn't, didn't I? Just know my brother _would_ try. That said I do think he can bounce back from what happened earlier, but only if you give him a little room to move. You have to try to if you want this fear to go away."

Okay, where the _hell_ had that come from? Maybe not understanding his emotions was alright because the psycho babble that just came out of his mouth from Ra knew where had the fear melting away from Ryou's soft face. He wasn't smiling; he still seemed a bit stunned but he wasn't flashing mayday signs anymore.

"Right...I can try," He said almost absentmindedly then stiffened up, pushing himself off the table with his elbows so he was sitting straight. He flashed a sheepish grin to Malik with a small wince then said, "Thanks for that, I guess I kind of needed someone to put me right side up. I don't deal crisis well if you can't tell."

They both laughed at that simply because the choice was laugh or have another emotional breakdown which neither wanted. Malik got the feel that what he had just witnessed was something usually dealt with by the Thief King –not the most sensitive person in the world as far as Malik could tell.

"Uh, I don't know much about this whole 'trying' thing so...what am I supposed to do exactly?" Malik grinned, glad that Ryou had asked. Whatever that emotional support stuff had been obviously threw the switch bringing Ryou back down to earth but as confused as he had been lately, Malik had always been a man of action and Mariku was even more so.

"I have an idea..."

**A/N: Okay, was that utterly confusing for anyone? Well don't freak out or abandon this story, please! This chapter was just the introduction to some deeper more confusing issues that will be brought up. If you're ARE utterly confused these are the things you should take from this chapter: Malik is avoiding his feelings for Bakura (the Thief King). Ryou is avoiding his feelings for Mariku because he is completely terrified of him. Ryou and Mariku share some sort of not-so-pleasant past that makes Ryou feel 'dirty' for some reason. Ryou knows Mariku is still upset with him and he wants to reconcile with him but he's nervous about it because he's never been brave enough to really try and make their 'relationship' work before, so Malik has come up with some sort of plan to help their 'relationship'. Interpret all that if you dare ;)**


	5. Decision Made

**A/N: Thank you to all the reviewers from the last chapter! I was pleased to hear that people for the most part weren't dropping dead from head spinning confusion. This chapter is pretty simple to follow but its thiefshipping focused, so everyone waiting to find out the Mariku/Ryou secret you're just going to have to be patient. I hope this is satisfactory at least :)**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

Bakura collapsed into the chair, giving a slightly exhausted glare at the blond boy with his feet up on the table in the head position. He wasn't sure when competition for the spot started up but he and Mariku had a long tradition of fighting over it.

Ryou once tried to make them create a schedule and just stop arguing about the silly thing but that was so boring. Unfortunately Bakura was a little too exhausted from his most recent fight with Mariku to pick a fight with the younger Ishtar now.

And by fight he meant literally as the darkening bruise on his left cheekbone indicated. Mariku had a nasty hook but Bakura had made sure to get in a few kicks and knock his friend back to sanity.

Ryou, to his surprise, didn't look quite as shaken as he did earlier so the kid must have done something that wasn't fists-centric to calm him down. His softer twin wasn't the violent type; his eyes were wide enough seeing Bakura's freshest bruise as it was.

"Oh my God, what did you two do, have a brawl?" Ryou gasped with horror right on cue and Bakura merely scoffed, waving the worry away.

"Please, I just knocked some sense into his thick head."

"_My_ thick head? I'm pretty sure I'm the one who punched you in the head. No, you prefer cracking my ribs," Mariku complained, nursing his side over dramatically.

"Don't be such a girl, I didn't kick you that hard," Bakura replied scornfully as Mariku huffed. His eyes never went near Ryou though. It was safe that way. Mariku didn't like to talk about his feelings, preferring instead to take out his frustration physically and then ignore the problem until it went away or was forgotten.

Bakura wasn't known for being much of a psychologist anyways. Even their very first meeting had been an unhappy clash of fists and feet until they were both beat up enough to accept their differences.

From that day forward they'd been each other's confidents, not in the emotional sense but in the sense that when one of them needed a good slap upside the head the other was willingly there to give it to them.

"He's not a girl, he's a fruit. Haven't we been over this?" Malik asked with a bored yawn but when Bakura looked at him with a raised eyebrow he flashed an impish grin. Tan arms folded behind his head, with his uniform jacket open over a tight white shirt and his feet up on the table; he finally felt more on level with the other boys.

Maybe it was because of Ryou's perhaps unintentional spill of trust in him but someone at least now had a reason to keep him around. It might be too much to hope for but Ryou also seemed to legitimately like him, especially after he had 'advised' him so helpfully.

"What are you still doing here?" Bakura asked bluntly and Ryou rolled his eyes silently at the rudeness.

"We had a deal, remember?" Malik said with another grin, and then slid a clear bag across the table towards him. Bakura blinked suspiciously then picked it up, feeling the cold hard objects inside.

It was...Ice?

"Ryou said you guys might come back bruised and I figured you might want that," He said aloofly, brushing back the front layer of his white-blond hair. His trusty golden earring made a pleasant tinkling noise against the solid gold neckband that cinched just above his collar tightly.

The Thief King's eyes flashed greed and Malik wasn't particularly surprised. After all he was the _Thief King_ he must be some sort of kleptomaniac.

"If you're waiting for thanks you won't get it," Was Bakura's flat reply but he accepted the ice which was thanks enough, pressing it to his slightly swollen cheek with a wince.

"What about me, brother?" Mariku pouted, glaring dangerously at his younger brother. "It's like you only care about him..." Malik ignored the wistful sigh with a roll of his eyes.

"I had faith you wouldn't get too beaten up," He said simply and then waited. The Thief King was smart, he was sure to hear the double meaning in those words. Better yet, he was proud and that meant after he figured it out he was sure to fall for the bait.

"And what are you implying about _me_, kid?" Did Malik hear a bingo? It sure seemed like it as the Thief King walked neatly into the trap.

"Tch, we had a deal didn't we? No more calling me kid, it's extremely annoying. And how should I know how you fight? I'm not _your _brother," He scoffed and reluctant appreciation flickered on the Thief King's face.

He had made a deal and he supposed he had to keep it now if he didn't want the kid, no, _Malik _whining for the rest of lunch and probably several more lunches to come. Plus he'd somehow accomplished the impossible task of calming Ryou down, which was more than what Bakura had asked of him.

"Fine, Malik, now stop bitching before your _extremely annoying_ habit convinces me to kick your skinny ass," Bakura snapped back though the words lacked spite. He didn't actually want to hurt him; if he did he would have done it long ago and never would have trusted him with Ryou.

"You've been checking out my ass?" Malik asked innocently, checking his no doubt immaculate nails, and Bakura fumed internally. He took it back, he didn't trust this emotional train wreck and he was tempted to cut his hair with a rusty knife to see how he liked it.

"Such a petty brother you have Mariku. Are you sure you're the only fruit in the family?" Mariku winced a little but kept his pout, avoiding looking at Ryou and refusing to bail Bakura out. Besides, Malik had enough comments to go around.

"I'm still sitting here you know _Thief King Touzoku-sama._ If you want to know so badly if I'm gay you could just ask instead of beating around the bush," Malik drawled lazily and Bakura could only stare this time.

This kid either had some sort of ridiculously oversized ego or one extremely screwed up brain behind that wicked mouth of his. Once again his brain informed him that not only did he remind of, well, himself, it was also pretty much the hottest thing he had ever seen.

Still, his impertinence couldn't go unchecked or the cheeky bastard would think he'd won this little argument.

"Do I really look like the type to beat around the bush?" He inquired dryly, leaning forward in his chair so that Malik couldn't miss the gleam in his eye.

"If I wanted to know if you were gay we wouldn't be here, we'd already be making out in the stairwell," He taunted and Malik glared at him balefully, lavender eyes flashing though his body language remained relaxed.

"Again just _assuming_ that I must be gay, although from that statement _you_ clearly are." The Thief King blinked wary mahogany eyes at him, never straying from his face. It was unnerving though Malik refused to show it.

He couldn't shake the feeling that this Thief King knew more about himself then _he_ currently did which was ridiculous but an ever present shadow over his thoughts.

"I'm not gay," Bakura said blandly and this time Malik frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said."

"But you also said" –

"If I wanted to know if you were gay I would be making out with you. There's a difference between making out with another guy and being gay." Mariku let out a loud fake snore, earning glares from both feuding males.

"You're never going to convince anyone into thinking you aren't a bisexual sleaze," He pointed out to Bakura who flashed him a nasty smirk but didn't comment as Ryou let out a small strangled laugh and Mariku's expression was immediately subdued, gaze dropping back to the table. Malik scowled, liking none of the exchange.

"Fine, so lusting for someone doesn't count as being interested?" He asked, calling the Thief King's attention back to himself but the slight surprise written on his moon white face was delicious. Hah, teach him to think he was an imbecile!

"That was the general point," Touzoku-'sama' simply said in response. Geez, not knowing his name was getting really annoying.

"Then I guess I'm safe from being a total fruit," Malik said with a knowing smirk and it was silent at the table for a moment. The Thief King's eyebrows shot up immediately showing his surprise and Mariku chuckled at the cunning response. Even Ryou seemed to read a little into it as his jaw dropped slightly in shock.

"Brave words for a kid..._Malik,_" Bakura commented suggestively, smirk curling his lips in a cruelly attractive fashion.

"I'm not a kid, I'm probably only a couple months younger then you," He responded, dazzling eyes still locked on the red tinted pair across from him.

"Now you're just _asking_ to be taken advantage of," The Thief King laughed mercilessly but Malik heard respect in that and it made him glow internally. Bakura noticed the way his expression lightened a little, seeming to notice his silent appreciation for his bravery.

He already knew the kid was an emotional rollercoaster and from those simple words he got a feel that perhaps he hadn't quite figured out everything if anything about himself yet.

Maybe Bakura could help him figure some things out while they got to know each other.

Maybe he wanted to.

"No taking advantage of the brat," Mariku said with a small frown and Malik rolled his eyes at the tough yet affectionate words. It was like cutting yourself while shaving, the shaving made you a man but the cut still stung.

"Oh but Mariku, he's just so _pretty_ and any good thief knows how to value pretty things," Bakura whined with a small purr to his voice as he tossed a wink in Malik's direction. To everyone's apparent amusement and the kid in questions horror he felt heat flash to his face, a pink tinge glowing across his cheeks.

Bakura snickered just to see him scowl but he was being honest when he said that he was pretty. And like he said, a good thief appreciated pretty things. As it was Malik was _very_ pretty, especially when he scowled and blushed like that.

His cheeky responses were even more amusing though, as Bakura found more and more ways to drag them out of him. Well he's the one who started hitting on him first, he practically asked for it!

"I-I'm not pretty," Malik stammered, glaring heatedly at the thief.

"Oh but you are," He replied, blowing him a mock kiss from his seat.

"Are you ever going to tell me your name, Thief King?" Malik asked abruptly, hiding his blush as Bakura frowned, not liking that his charade had to end so quickly. Malik was fun to mess with...so cheeky and yet so unbelievably _hot_ at the same time_. _

Hm, strange, this wasn't lust he was feeling.

Well, it was when they talked about making out, he was tempted to jump across the table and take advantage of him but he probably would have given Ryou a heart attack and given Mariku more of a reason to try and kill him.

As for Malik...his response would be the most fun but it wasn't worth getting the crap beaten out of him by his tough older brother. Bakura was a thief, and therefore not a heavy-weight when it came to muscle like Mariku. Even he knew better than to push him too far over something stupid.

"Ask and you shall receive," Bakura responded cryptically, curious over the way Malik sighed with annoyance.

The kid's little 'deals' were obviously important to him yet now he dropped his feet to the ground, moving his elbows to the table, mimicking Bakura's own position. This was the second time he'd let him cheat his way out of a deal.

"Tell me, Thief King Touzoku-sama, what _is_ your real name?" Malik asked, managing to keep most of his sarcasm and curiosity out of his voice. Bakura smirked but he felt it, there, inside of him...somewhere, he wasn't sure where, but he recognized the feeling.

Admiration for the kid's willingness to play along so that in the end he could get what he wanted.

"You still haven't told him?" Ryou asked disapprovingly and Bakura just shrugged, eyes never leaving Malik's serious face.

"I am a thief king and people have called me Touzoku-sama in the past," Mariku snickered disbelievingly at this but Bakura let it slide so he could finish his arrogant introduction, "but I assume what you want to know is my full name, right?"

Malik nodded slowly, careful not to show his eagerness. Red eyes studied him closely for a minute, searching up his tanned body, hovering over his conspicuous golden jewellery and then blinking upon his soul sucking lavender eyes that shone under the fluorescent lights.

A little nerves, a lot of uncertainty, some apprehension and an overwhelming amount of curiosity stared straight back at him.

"Touzoku Bakura," He finally said and the tension breaking in the air was nearly tangible.

"Bakura...meaning good?" Malik asked, curiosity getting the better of him and 'Bakura' shrugged his uncaring yes.

"It suits you," He added and this caught the infamous Touzoku Bakura's hard sought attention, eyes snapping back to his smug Egyptian face immediately. It was a mistake to look away even for a second with this emotional safety hazard, Bakura thought dryly.

It certainly made things interesting to say the least.

"How so?" He asked in almost civil tone and the cheeky almost-smirk grew triumphantly, gloating the childish I-know-something-you-don't-know expression.

"Because you must be good at _something_ Thief King, even if it is just stealing," Malik taunted in what should have been a mocking way but with the tilt of his head and the narrowing of his eyes it hinted at more.

Bakura chuckled, leaning farther across the table. What was this intoxicating feeling? He could feel Malik's eyes so intently on him and _liked_ it. He'd already pinpointed the admiration and of course how exotically attractive the other boy was but there was something else that he wasn't quite used to.

"I'm going to be honest just this once and say I can't tell if you're hitting on me or if you're insulting me," He responded with predatory grace, eyes raking over Malik as obviously as he dared with his older brother sitting between them.

Surprise, discomfort, the two most common elements crossed Malik's pretty face first followed by flirtation and slight hope. Ugh, more confusing, conflicting emotions! What was Malik thinking? How was _he_ sorting them out when Bakura couldn't?

He could see them but he couldn't piece them together. So interesting and frustrating and...Mostly just interesting actually. Mariku shoved back from the table, chair screeching over the floor as he stood with a bored stretch, killing the moment unceremoniously.

"No more of this psycho babble shit that you two are trying to pass off as flirting. Bakura, no taking advantage of the brat, Malik, stop being a smartass and tempting him, he doesn't do relationships anyways. The most you might get out of it is a make out because he sure as hell isn't sleeping with you, right _Thief King?_" Mariku mocked cruelly, eyeing his friend who scoffed, hiding his own frustration with the situation skilfully.

"Never say never, just because I haven't been in a relationship doesn't mean I couldn't be if I wanted to," Bakura corrected cunningly.

Again Malik surprised him with his stubborn, "Well you're 'not gay' and I never said I was either." He always worded it that way. He never _said_ he was gay, that was true, but was he really? A thought hit Bakura.

Did _Malik_ even know yet?

He was tempted to laugh bitterly. The kid was what, fifteen, sixteen? That only made him a couple months younger then himself at most but it left plenty of room for doubt about his sexuality among various other things.

It would explain a lot of his strange emotional reactions. Wouldn't it be funny if Bakura had unintentionally forced the kid into wondering about his sexual orientation? Not that Bakura minded, he wouldn't even mind helping him figure it out a bit...that make out was sounding very attractive...but there was more.

That feeling, Malik's eyes on him, that feeling that he _liked_ so intensely just moments before wasn't gone, it was just biding its time, waiting for Malik's eyes to fall on him and only him again. The kid clearly craved attention if nothing else and Bakura found himself willing to give it so long as the puzzle remained unsolved.

That exotic body and mind was so...what was the word..._attractive._ Was he _attracted_ to Malik?

Bakura, contrary to popular belief, was not willing to live in denial and spend several days obsessing over his feelings as he tried to figure them out. Sometimes it was necessary but in a situation like this he just took a step back and looked closely.

Was he or was he not attracted to Ishtar Malik?

It couldn't be that complicated to figure out, people developed crushes all the time. Just because he never had before didn't mean it couldn't happen to him now.

After all, Malik was cheeky, confusing and therefore interesting by default but also interesting because he never paused to get a grip, he just kept pushing forward even though it only seemed to make him more confused.

And hot, Bakura was pretty sure it was impossible to forget that. Skinny but _hot_ and damn, Mariku was giving him that I'm-going-to-kill-you-if-you-don't-stop-checking-out-my-brother look. Bakura decided that he didn't care.

Yes, Bakura was in fact very much attracted to this strange Ishtar Malik. Decision made, no going back now, because the thief king always got what he wanted.

"Cat got your tongue or do you just not have a snappy comeback?" Malik asked, and Bakura realized his internal proclamation of attraction had rendered him silent for several seconds during which he was supposed to be speaking.

"It would take a lot more than a cat to fight this tongue although I will put yours through an immoral amount of pain if you continue with these useless taunts," He sneered. A roll of those eyes, a shrug of shoulders too broad to be female, a flip of platinum blond hair that made gold jewellery flash.

Tough kid, but smart wasn't he?

Oh _yes_ he was attracted.

"Ra, you two are disturbing," Mariku mumbled, shaking his head quickly. It was like Bakura and his mini-me only Malik was far too proud to ever admit to that. "This is almost as bad as detention," He added and Bakura smirked.

"I take it they finally managed to prove that you were behind the prank last week?" Mariku nodded but grinned a little at the fond memory.

"Next week I'm not covering your ass in detention, you're lucky I didn't turn you in when they told me who my lunch monitor was today just so I wouldn't be alone in there with the bitch," Mariku growled irritably.

"Takashi-sensei?" Bakura questioned, though really he didn't need to ask. There was only one lunch monitor that Mariku was that adverse to, and that was saying a lot for someone like Mariku who disliked teachers in general.

"I swear that woman has some sort of warped sadistic crush on me. As soon as I get in trouble she goes out of her way to make sure she's monitoring my detentions and as soon as we're alone she won't stop flirting with me. It's disturbing," Mariku complained.

Malik glanced up curiously when Ryou let out a small strangled noise of disgust though it seemed directed at the teacher, not Mariku himself. It seemed that Mariku wasn't the only one who was disturbed by the teacher's 'crush' on him.

Then again, Ryou had every reason to dislike someone who flirted with Mariku, no less a teacher, and Mariku had always had something against females. Whether that was because he was gay or the reason why he was gay was unknown to everyone, including Malik who despite having lived with him his whole life couldn't remember a time when he showed any amount of interest in girls, romantic or otherwise.

At Ryou's sound of distaste, Mariku's eyes started to stray eagerly in his hearts desire's direction but he quickly looked away again, shaking himself slightly. No need to start that up again when he'd just released all his tension.

"Going to serve the second half?" His partner in crime asked flippantly.

"Only because Takashi-sensei will lock me in after school and do Ra knows what with me if I don't," He grumbled but dutifully squared his shoulders and started to stride a way, giving his friend and brother small nods in farewell.

"W-wait! Mariku-san!"

**A/N: I looked up what Bakura meant and the internet says it means 'good' but we all know how trustworthy the internet is so if that's wrong, please don't burn me alive with flames. That would be a particularly unpleasant way to go as an authoress...also, I threw that last line in on the end to make sure y'all knew this scene isn't over yet ;) After all, I'm sure (hoping) that people are still curious about Malik's little 'plan'!**


	6. Embracing Pain

**A/N: So much in this story happens on the very first day! Gah, well, I hope it doesn't seem too rushed...or too confusing...because this is the chapter where all the emotions and information (pertaining to Mariku and Ryou anyways) get thrown into the proverbial washing machine and get spun until you don't know what's what! Excited yet? It'll all make sense when you're (a couple chapters) older, I promise! **

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

"W-wait! Mariku-san!"

Mariku froze, impressively muscled back stiffening rigidly under his tight uniform. That soft voice had called him like an angel, being probably one of the only people in the school who didn't just call him Ishtar or Mariku. Hope guilt and pain followed the sound inside of him like crashing waves.

He turned a little, hearing meek footsteps approach. What could he possibly want from him now?

More pain.

Sometimes he thought it wasn't worth it. One look into those beautiful, melting, milk chocolate eyes and he knew he was screwed even if it wasn't.

"Yes Ryou?" He asked warily, vaguely wondering if he should start calling his 'not friend' by Touzoku or add the 'san' ending but decided against it. He was in enough pain as it was and he was a man, he didn't need to deal with rejection so childishly.

"Can I...I mean, may I...that is would you mind if..." The little angel looked completely flustered, cheeks pink and only turning into a deeper red as he tried to force out whatever he was trying to say. Shutting those adorable eyes tight shut he blurted, "May I please hug you?"

Mariku had never been so shocked in his life. Never. Well...maybe when he discovered his feelings for Ryou. It had felt similar to this numbing yet electrical sensation that jolted through him, reminding him he was still awake and alive.

"You...what...? Um..." How the hell did one respond to _that?_ Did Malik slip something in his lunch? Still, it wasn't like Ryou offered that sort of thing very often...his big eyes were looking up at him now, blushing even harder as he fidgeted, obviously uncomfortably but still nailing his gaze to him unnervingly.

"S-sure," He stammered, unable to make himself say no. Ryou gave a small squeak of alarm that sounded almost girly but still freaking cute coming out of him. He fidgeted some more, glancing at Mariku shyly, shuffling closer, and then hesitating some more.

Mariku felt impatience flicker up but pushed it down forcefully. Luckily he wasn't the only one.

"If you're going to hug him just fucking do it already, you look ridiculous," Bakura said in a bored tone, even his curse word had little inflection to it but it had the desired effect.

Ryou skipped the last two steps over to Mariku and after one last teeny tiny hesitation –put his arms around him.

Mariku felt his heart explode. Literally.

Boom, bang, pop, showers of confetti and all. Holy _Ra_ his insides were on _fire._ So a hug wasn't that big a deal...shouldn't have been anyways...he'd made out with plenty of guys, dated around plenty of times. A hug was nothing.

But with Ryou...just _holy Ra! _Ryou had never let them touch like this before and it was amazing!

Ryou felt awkward.

He was already on tiptoe, eyes squeezed shut as he stretched up to loosely wrap his arms around Mariku's neck. He could hardly even make his body reach all the way, giving him a whole new appreciation for how tall and broad shouldered and...muscular Mariku was.

Then Mariku's arms came up slowly, gently, wrapping around his waist and it was unbelievably _warm_.

Ryou tried to stifle his gasp, startled by the secure warmth of those arms around his waist that shouldn't have been so cuddly or so perfect or so anything, but they totally were. He blushed hotly at these sappy thoughts, made worse because he was staring directly at Mariku's chest now.

Maybe closing his eyes would be better, but he knew it was too dangerous. He wanted to curl up on that chest and get as close to the warmth as he could, just cuddle in and fall asleep and stay happy _forever._

Because Mariku absolutely made him melt when they got close like this or when they accidentally locked eyes or even just when he heard that low, throaty, seductive voice.

God, he could go on hearing Mariku talk forever just to hear those sexy tones ringing around his ears in warm spirals that enticed him, excited him, made him _want_ so badly for the first time in his whole life. In direct contrast to that want he started to feel even sleepier in his warm muscled embrace.

And then Mariku let out the slightest sound of soft innocent content so different then his usual toughness.

Ryou stiffened, cold terror pumping into his blood stream.

That voice...so beautiful...so alluring and inviting...so cruel...the beautiful voice that had scorned him and burned him so many times, hurt him like no mere bully had ever been able to when they struck him.

The beating that cruel silver tongue had given him, swimming in the depths of its golden enchanting tones while using icy words that tore him to pieces, was worse than any other beating he had endured in his lifetime.

No one could hurt him the way the owner of that voice had, not just once but many, many times. No, not again...he didn't want to hear that voice hurt him again. Beauty should not be able to cause such immeasurable pain.

"I'm sorry Ishtar-sama!" He blurted, ripping away, and stumbling back with his eyes trained firmly on the floor. The voice had plainly told him many times not to look at him with 'those eyes'. He didn't need to be told again.

"W-what...what did you call me?" Mariku stammered with horror, jaw dropping slightly as he stared at the trembling teen in front of him. Malik saw Bakura wince slightly out of the corner of his eyes and he gaped at the reactions all around.

It had been such a sweet and tender moment, he had to avoid Bakura's eye after he started making gagging motions and they were both tempted to laugh. What had gone wrong? Ryou just...flipped, out of nowhere!

Ryou took another faltering step backwards and more fell than sat back in a chair. His ghostly hands shook as he clenched them, folding his arms around himself. He gave a small pathetic noise, somewhere between a hiccupping sob and an attempt to steady his breath.

His arms clenched tighter and he shut his eyes as though he were holding something painful in –or holding himself together. Maybe he was doing both. His lips started to move, mumbling something repeatedly like a mantra.

It was a disturbing change from their sweet embrace to say the least.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I won't touch you, I won't look at you wrong anymore Ishtar-sama." The words he was repeating in a whisper were barely discernable from where Malik was standing but it was impossible to miss the terror in his tone.

Terror of what though? Being hugged?

For the first time, Malik openly wondered if the poor boy was actually mentally unstable. He sounded it with his sudden mood swings and unexplained phobias.

Mariku's face contorted with confusion and slight pain though he quickly wiped it away, looking helplessly to Malik and Bakura, the former who looked more lost than his brother and the latter who just looked blandly accepting of the scene though there was a hint of pity to his features.

"Is this some sort of sick joke? Are you trying to punish me? Ra, I thought this was over," Mariku snapped almost desperately when no help came, and the whitette he was looming over still seemed to be shuddering, tears trying to seep from the corners of his eyes that were screwed shut hard enough to give him a headache.

"I'm sorry for whatever it was I did wrong" –"Stop apologizing! You didn't do anything wrong!" "Ishtar-sama" –"Stop calling me that! Stop it! It's been five fucking years, just stop it!" Ryou let out a broken noise and Mariku balled his fists, clearly losing it like a ticking time bomb.

The more Ryou grovelled the more Mariku panicked and the more confused Malik got.

"Ra damn it Ryou, I never asked for this, I never asked you to" –

"Mariku." Bam, Mariku stopped like he'd been stone walled or had a door slammed in his face, mouth clamping shut as his eyes went blank. Bakura had spoken for the first time, pale face showing fury now like a fire burning in those cruel bleeding eyes.

"You are not helping," The fierce twin hissed through gritted teeth and Mariku seethed, mauve eyes flickering alive angrily as he started to pace up and down in front of Ryou, gaze bouncing between him and Bakura.

"What can I do then? I hug him and he cries, I speak and he _breaks_, I yell and...and it brings all this back! What can I do?"

"Nothing," Malik murmured the answer despite not understanding the situation and Bakura looked at him. The smaller boy flinched then saw the approval hidden in the glance, slowly relaxing. Why wasn't Bakura biting _his_ head off?

"Listen to your brother. It takes a stranger to read a situation," Bakura said shortly and when he looked at Malik the boy's eyes widened hugely, shaking his head quickly.

"N-no, Bakura, I have no idea what's going on!" He stammered as Bakura just rolled his eyes and shoved him forward, hand resting on Malik's slender waist for two delicious seconds. Damn it, how could he be thinking about that right now?

He was supposed to be figuring out something to say to his...strangely blank looking...brother. Mariku's expression had died again after his outburst, deep purple eyes dull, jaw lax, hand limp at his sides. Malik shivered because that was a look he _did_ recognize even if he didn't know exactly what was going on here.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, took one last glance at Bakura if only to wave his hand and assure him he knew what he was doing, then balled his fist and nailed his brother –right in the ribs he had previously been complaining about.

"What –the –fuck?" Mariku snarled, lunging forward to wrap strong fingers around his younger brother's neck in blind rage. Malik took a gasp of air, knowing it would have to last and fully appreciating his protective golden neck ring that stopped his wind pipe from being totally collapsed.

Well at least this proved his theory. His brother was going to have a lot to answer to when he came back down to earth.

"Mariku..." He managed in a small voice, gagging a little but forcing his lungs to work in small breathes. "You realize if you hurt me you'll have to go back to the therapist?" He choked and pain flicked across Mariku's face with the memory, loosening his grip a little bit as it sunk in.

"Therapist...back...oh _fuck_," Mariku swore, backing off suddenly just as Bakura had begun to consider knocking him out forcefully. He vaguely wondered if it was normal to want to maim someone that tried to hurt the person he had a crush on, even if it was one of his best friends. Malik immediately began coughing, touching his neck gingerly.

"You should have told nee-san that it was back," He managed disapprovingly after a moment.

"It's not _back,_ I just lose it when he...when stuff from when it was really bad comes up," He murmured guiltily and Malik stared at him disbelievingly. That was when Bakura decided to make his presence known, landing a hardy slap across Mariku's already battered ribs, making him yelp painfully.

"What was that" –

"That was for still being here. Now leave so that I can try and fix Ryou," He snapped with an intentional glare and Mariku scowled, expression quickly fading to pain as he looked at the frailer Touzoku who was now mutely sitting there, eyes fixed on the floor.

"Now!" Bakura barked more sharply.

"Fine, I'm going," Mariku growled back, sparing Ryou one last look before stumbling out the door, looking disoriented. Bakura sighed once the door swung shut behind him, running stressful hands through his crazy white hair that stuck out in spikes at the front.

Malik would have laughed at the familiar habit he'd seen Ryou applying earlier but it died on his tongue when he saw the twin in question shifting uncomfortably.

"Ryou he's gone, you can get up now," Bakura growled in what was probably supposed to be a nice voice. Malik rolled his eyes, earning him a glare.

"You call that nice?" He hissed quietly.

"Then you do it!" Bakura responded irritably. Malik hesitated but when the Thief King folded his arms challengingly he found himself on his knees to put himself on level with Ryou, trying to think of an approach.

He'd dealt with Mariku's 'problem' on many occasions whether that meant being his punching bag or punching back but that was hardly going to work with fragile Ryou. Ironic how little he seemed despite the fact that he was older then Malik.

"Ryou," He murmured as softly as he could, "I would like to see your eyes." It was a start at least. Something about those eyes was important to the strange past he and Mariku shared. "Please?" He tried and Ryou took a shaky breath.

"Is he really gone?" He asked meekly, almost sounding embarrassed and Malik breathed a silent sigh of relief. He didn't seem too far gone if he was capable of sounding embarrassed over his fears.

"Really, really," Malik promised with a small chuckle only to find two constricting arms suddenly around his neck. He sprawled backward awkwardly, barely managing to hold himself up with two bent wrists. Ryou had literally thrown himself on him in some sort of...huggy embrace thingy.

Well this was awkward.

"Um...help?" He asked Bakura meekly as Ryou trembled against his chest, pinning him to the floor. Bakura smirked at the awkwardness written across his face and in his stiff body language.

"Fine," He sighed in mock regret, and then reached down, grabbing Ryou by the back of his jacket to jerk him up like a puppy by its scruff. Ryou even yelped like one, squeezing his eyes shut nervously. When the world stopped moving he cracked an eye open meekly, finding himself face to face with his brother's red eyes that seemed to smirk at him.

"Miss me honey?" Scrambling away quickly, Ryou managed to stay on his own feet, blushing and pouting a bit.

"I'm not your honey, I'm not...anybody's." There was a slight depressive tilt to the words but Bakura paid no heed to the words.

"Really? Mariku certainly seems to think you're his," He said mischievously and Ryou glared, Malik shifting uncomfortably on the ground at their feet. Catching sight of the movement, Ryou gasped in polite horror, immediately apologizing all over himself as he stretched out a hand for the Egyptian he had practically flattened.

"I'm so sorry, that whole situation must have been so unpleasant for you and you have no idea what's going on and I'm just" –

"Don't bother," Bakura cut him off lazily, slapping his hand out of the way just as Malik reached for it, snatching the tan hand in his to hoist him off the ground with one easy pump of his arm.

Malik only had time to think he must be stronger then he looked because he was flying through the air, unable to stop his momentum once he was on his feet so he was forced to stumble forward a step –smack into Bakura's rather sturdy chest.

"I didn't know you felt that way," Bakura laughed suggestively in that chilling way and Malik could actually _feel _it. Blushing with annoyance at his weakness, Malik yanked away, released Bakura's hand with a vicious shake.

"You did that on purpose," He snapped and Bakura smirked in a predatory way, eyes gleaming down at Malik threateningly.

"Of course," The whitette purred in a silken voice if only to see how much harder Malik blushed.

"Ah I –I never said you could hit on me!" He insisted in a slightly shaken voice, backing up another step just to be safe. Bakura rolled his eyes, leaning back anyways so he didn't _loom_ quite so much over the other.

"Well it wouldn't be hitting on you if I asked permission now would it?" He did nothing to deny it though. Why bother? He had been after all, and Bakura was never one to deny the truth.

"The bell is about to ring, we should probably get to class," Ryou pointed out politely and Malik looked at him curiously, hearing the pleasant tone. Once again he wondered if the boy was unstable.

Sixty seconds ago he was holding himself together like he really thought 'Ishtar-sama' was going to hurt him if he let himself go but now he had a smile pasted on his face, voice humble but sweet. Had he totally forgotten what happened or was this a mask to hide his fear?

"I guess...I'll try and work things out with Mariku after school, so that next lunch won't be so hectic for you Malik. It would be nice if you could eat with us without getting pulled into this mess," Ryou said generously but there was a fray of nerves to his voice, nibbling the corner of his lower lip distractedly.

Definitely a mask, a very tired one as well since it wasn't hard to see through. Malik wondered how hard it was for Ryou who was clearly terrified of Mariku at times to suggest talking things out with him after school. Not that his fear was unfounded, Mariku wasn't the most stable person either.

"When did we start inviting kids to eat lunch with us?" Bakura grumbled and Malik felt some irritation, partially because the Thief King was completely insensitive towards Ryou's pain and also to be referred to as 'kid' again.

"The kid has a name, and I know you know it," He snapped at the same moment Ryou said, "Please Bakura can't you attempt to be polite for five minutes?" The two glanced at each other for a moment, realizing they had spoken at the same time so it came out as a garbled protest and promptly started laughing sheepishly.

Malik could see where the attraction was from Mariku, seeing the way Ryou was childishly adorable, rubbing the back of his head and laughing with his eyes shut cheerfully. Ominous past, unstable temper and ridiculous phobia aside they balanced each other in a way.

Including the past, temper and phobia they were a disaster waiting to happen.

"Don't worry, I've always found sorting out messes far more interesting then living each boring day," He told Ryou flippantly with a reassuring smile.

"Just about nothing you do or say will get rid of me," He added, sure to send Bakura a barbed glare. He received it with a smirk, enjoying the challenge in Malik's voice. No, he didn't want to drive him away but Malik didn't know that.

Ryou watched the two of them sizing each other up and quietly thought that Bakura really seemed to like the younger boy which was strange but cute at the same time. Bakura had never shown much interest in anyone yet in one day he'd become attached to this stranger in a way Ryou could only describe as...a crush.

It sounded strange to think of Bakura having a crush on someone but that was the only way he knew to classify his sudden interest in Malik. The thought also reminded him of the 'talk' he promised to have with Mariku.

Immediately he found himself gnawing on the corner of his lip, nervous bubbling up inside. He still had this irrational fear from years ago...he just wished he could make Mariku understand. But that required talking and talking with Mariku had always been awkward since he became friends with Bakura.

Mariku's strange spontaneity, his ability to switch from subdued to angry to flirtatious always caught Ryou off guard and made him nervous. He was no good in situations he wasn't prepared for. Even thinking about going into the unknown made him nervous and Mariku was very much unknown area to him.

That didn't stop the strange attraction inside him though and that made him even more uncertain.

Still, he had promised Malik to sort things out with Mariku before tomorrow so he would have to stiffen up and face his fears.

**A/N: I edited this chapter, and edited it again, and edited it again...and again, and again, and again! It still seems a bit unclear to me but hopefully this is good enough. BUT, Ryou and Mariku's past is meant confusing right now. I plan to draw this out for awhile ;)**


	7. Fighting Demons

**A/N: The long awaited (sort of) chapter that sheds some light on the Mariku/Ryou situation! All the details will slowly be drawn out, so don't think this is it, but hopefully this makes the situation more pronounced at least. Via flashback of course! Therefore the bold *flashback* means a flashback is starting. I have great confidence that that won't confuse anyone!**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

After school had come far too quickly and Ryou was overly aware of every step carrying him towards the soccer field where the football team was practicing.

Mariku had always been the jock type, loving physical activity where as when Ryou watched all he could do was wince with each sickening crunch of player against player. He didn't understand why anyone would want to spend hours tackling each other painfully for 'sport'.

Perching on one of the lower levels of the bleachers he watched the practice going on several yards away, slowly sorting through the bulky uniform clad members, searching for those deep mauve eyes against tan skin.

It showed up easily against the white of the uniform and he quickly located Mariku as he tackled another player, easily overpowering him with his raw muscle and determination. As much as it looked like it hurt, Ryou also thought such strength was attractive.

Mariku was everything he wasn't, and several of his traits weren't so admirable but many of them were things Ryou wished he himself had. Maybe that was where his attraction stemmed from but watching him from afar like this was fascinating.

He remembered with a sad smile how they never really got any closure after Bakura firmly put a stop to the bullying against Ryou, though Mariku had never even laid a finger on him. Whoever said 'sticks and stones can break my bones but words can never hurt me' was very wrong.

Words hurt more than any sticks or stones _Ryou_ had experienced. Either way, Bakura had stopped him and formed a strong bond with Mariku, resulting in Ryou perfecting the art of pretending he could neither see nor hear Mariku.

If he was directly addressed he responded but generally he had always relied on pretending his former bully wasn't there if he could. He always knew when those dark eyes were on him though, watching him carefully all the time.

The first time he noticed was nearly a year after he and Bakura became 'partners in crime', during the physical education class they shared. At first Ryou was uncomfortable, feeling a hungry gaze on him in the change room or in class and knowing it belonged to Mariku.

After awhile he got used to it and it was almost nice to know someone was looking over him, especially since Mariku never talked to him the same way Ryou never approached him either, simply observing the pretty Touzoku from across the room.

Ryou was used to people staring and he quickly disconnected the fear of Mariku from the feel of those eyes on him. His watcher obviously liked him even if it was just because he was pretty.

A part of Ryou knew guiltily that he should probably tell Mariku not to get attached to him even just physically since Ryou barely had the confidence to respond politely when he and Bakura were together and tried to include him.

At the same time he liked the idea of Mariku being attached to him, it seemed fitting with the past they shared even if it did still scare Ryou at times. That changed during a phys ed. class one day during the jujitsu unit...

***Flashback***

_Takashi-sensei gestured with her clipboard to Ryou, and he padded forward on bare feet, knowing it was his turn to have a space on the mats covered with wrestling pairs. Takashi-sensei put a hand on his shoulder, guiding him towards a free section where his opponent waited. _

_She told the small white haired boy that hopefully the size difference between him and his opponent would teach him to stand up for himself. Ryou was embarrassed, knowing he always did poorly in contact sports since he didn't like hitting anyone, not even just for sport. _

_When he stepped up on the mat he saw his opponent and felt his heart drop to his stomach painfully. Standing across the mat with a proud expression was Mariku, hands on his hips as he looked critically at his smaller opponent who was weak in comparison to his broad shoulders and muscled arms, evident under the simple white jujitsu uniform. _

_Ryou couldn't believe how unlucky he was, but forced himself to focus, moving up to the mats with Mariku who didn't seem to care who his opponent was since he was an excellent fighter. He told himself wrestling with the demon of his past wasn't something he should be afraid of but when he was face to face with Mariku –_

_He completely froze up. _

_Seeing Mariku standing there with a grin on his face, just waiting for a fight, Ryou could remember all those times of being privy to that grin, cold mauve eyes taunting him to try and fight back or escape while he could do neither. _

"_Touzoku-san, bow to your opponent," Takashi-sensei instructed and Ryou could only stare across with horror at Mariku who's grin grew under his fearful inspection. No doubt he thought Ryou was frightened of his fighting skills not of Mariku himself. _

"_I-I can't," Ryou stammered, shaking his head quickly with wide eyes. The familiar sense of cowardice that he always had around Mariku filled him, freezing him to the spot. Mariku scowled; looking unhappy that Ryou was too afraid to even try fighting him. _

"_Come on Ryou, take your best shot," He taunted and Ryou felt a fearful jolt at being called so informally the way Mariku used to when he bullied him. He had always been excellent at pretending they were close friends while quietly murmuring threats in his ears when no one was watching. _

_Ryou could still remember every nerve wracking moment of hesitation while Mariku goaded him and Takashi-sensei ordered him to complete the drill. Suddenly he was eleven years old again and Mariku was looking at him with that sadistic grin, sitting so close to him as he made many terrifying promises with that silver tongue. _

_Ryou balked again, this time actually taking a step back as his hands hung limply at his sides, no use in a fight. _

"_I'm n-not fighting Ishtar-sama," He insisted with fear rich in his voice, staring at the dark skinned boy who glowered back with an unsettled growl, obviously remembering just as clearly as he did where the title came from._

"_If you don't fight him your marks will drop even more," Takashi-sensei threatened and Ryou winced but he was far more afraid of Mariku then he was of failing. Mariku waved off Takashi-sensei's comment nonchalantly, the same way he did just about anything a female teacher said, focusing completely on Ryou with that startling absorbed look again. _

_This time it was not lustful but more curious, cocking his head at the strange other boy who was afraid to even meet his eyes. _

"_You don't need to be scared, I'm not going to get mad over something so stupid," He assured him and Ryou was taken aback by Mariku's uncharacteristic reaction. He had expected the Mariku he remembered to order him to fight, to threaten him or become angry. _

_Instead Mariku merely looked confused over why Ryou was so scared looking. _

"_I don't want to fight with you," Ryou blurted, taking another step back so he was on the very edge of the mat. Takashi-sensei became frustrated, knowing Ryou only participated in contact sports half heartedly but this was taking it beyond going easy on his opponent! _

_Mariku glared saying, "Stop being such a chicken Ryou. At least put up a decent effort for once." Ryou couldn't understand why _Mariku_ didn't understand why he didn't put up a 'decent effort'. He didn't actually want to return to that place of hurt thank-you-very-much. _

_He couldn't help wondering why Mariku was so annoyed that he was afraid of him when he had always enjoyed Ryou's cowardice. Really that was reason enough to believe he'd changed but he'd never been able to fully grasp that, not after all the pain he'd put him through despite Bakura telling him time and again that Mariku had been going through therapy for months now. _

_It wasn't like Mariku had ever apologized for his bullying, it just happened to stop happening. Ryou couldn't convince himself that it wouldn't return at any moment. _

"_I r-really d-don't want to fight you Ishtar-sama," He protested weakly, feeling his knees go weak. _

"_It isn't some big deal! Ra, you're acting like this is actually going to hurt. I promise to win quickly," Mariku mocked and Ryou bit his lip uncertainly. He said he wasn't going to hurt him...but when had he ever been able to trust Mariku? _

_Trusting Mariku was always dangerous, or so he'd experienced, no matter how persuasive that voice was. But right then it didn't sound like Mariku was trying to persuade him, he wasn't being charming or nice, in fact he was actually being a bit rude in Ryou's opinion. _

"_Promise it won't hurt?" He asked quietly in a childish voice, staring wide eyed at his larger far more intimidating opponent. Mariku always lied, he never kept his word...but like every time Ryou was a weakling and had to try again to see if maybe this time Mariku would tell the truth. _

"_Touzoku-san, the point of the drill is not to hurt each other," Takashi-sensei reminded him but for once Ryou ignored his sensei, instead look at Mariku who was looking back at him with a confused uncertainty. _

"_Of course it's not going to hurt. Why would it?" Mariku asked in a puzzled voice and Ryou struggled to breath normally again. Maybe he would keep his word this time. After all he'd never hurt him before. Not with his fists anyways. _

_Stepping back up to the centre of the mat he bowed respectfully and Mariku repeated the gesture, looking at Ryou suspiciously. Takashi-sensei counted them in and before Ryou could so much as blink Mariku had lashed out at him, carrying him to the floor with a jarring thud. _

_Ryou half heartedly tried for a punch that Mariku caught, slamming his hand back into the ground and raising his own fist. Ryou whimpered and cowered closer to the floor, eyes screwed shut. The hit never came though Mariku just scoffed irritably then stood up, alleviating the weight from Ryou's chest that had pinned him so effectively. After all, Mariku must be double his weight. _

"_Ishtar-san, what are you doing now? Finish the fight at least," Takashi-sensei begged exasperatedly, grinding her pen into her clipboard. One thing was for sure, she was never pairing these two together again if she could avoid it. _

"_Oh shut up," Mariku snapped at her with a scowl even knowing his attitude would get him detention. _

"_He's not even fighting back," He said in way of explanation, gesturing to where Ryou was just opening his eyes meekly from the floor to see Mariku glaring down at him, then stomping away with irritation in search of a real opponent who would do more than cower. _

_Ryou watched him go more confused than ever. _

_After class Takashi-sensei held Ryou back, warning him that his marks were getting to be a serious problem in this unit since he wouldn't even try fighting. Ryou humbly agreed to try harder as usual, leaving Takashi-sensei exasperated but there wasn't much she could do. _

_Ryou always said he would try harder, and he did, but he really disliked violence of any sort. Not to mention the poor kid was practically comatose after his 'fight' with Mariku. When he approached the change room, the door opened, bringing him face to face with the demon of his past himself. _

_Ryou avoided his gaze nervously; trying to move towards the change room but Mariku blocked his way then easily grabbed him by the back of his collar, dragging him back over to the matted area despite his loud protests. _

_Mariku was much bigger and stronger than him, planting Ryou solidly on the mats and then folding his arms with a fierce glare to those mauve eyes. _

"_W-what are you doing?" Ryou stammered fearfully, trying to edge away but one look had him rooted to the spot again. _

"_Tell me why you always act like you think I'm going to try and hurt you," Mariku demanded bluntly and Ryou blinked with confusion amidst his fear. He opened his mouth to speak but really, what could he say to that? _

_Anything he wanted to say, like 'oh, you just happened to forget the fact that you bullied me for three years until I lived in constant terror' simply wouldn't come out of his constricting throat. _

"_See, you never even stand up for yourself!" Mariku snapped with annoyance. Once again Ryou had no chance to react other than a strangled gasp when Mariku wrenched him to the ground, pinning him effectively once more. _

"_Stop being such a coward, I've never hurt you and I'm never going to," Mariku insisted and his tone made something inside Ryou snap. _

"_You did hurt me though," He said quietly and Mariku was taken aback for a moment before narrowing his eyes again. _

"_You can't seriously be talking about what happened in middle school. That was over a year ago Ryou, don't you think I've change since then?" Mariku asked seriously and Ryou froze up again, afraid to say yes and afraid to say no. _

_True there was something different about Mariku but at the same time he was straddling him, pinning him to the floor as he demanded answers. Was it a safe change or was he just more dangerous than before?_

"_Fine, you have a choice then. Tell me why you think I haven't changed or make me get off of you," Mariku said gruffly and proceeded to stare down at Ryou who looked back with terror at the two choices, neither of which seemed very plausible at the moment. _

_He couldn't even begin to explain to Mariku everything he'd gone through before and during his bullying and therefore why he was still terrified of him now, but he also wasn't likely to be able to flip him either. Ryou wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, long enough that his legs went numb from the hips down and his insides started to feel strange staring into Mariku's eyes like that. _

_Those dark mauve eyes blinked rhythmically and as Ryou memorized every fleck and streak inside his strange irises he wondered how much he didn't know about Mariku. Obviously he never planned to get to know him better, but there had to be more to him then the sadistic childhood bully Ryou knew. _

"_Come on Ryou," He finally pleaded after what could have been hours for all Ryou knew, "Tell me what I did to scare you so damn badly." Ryou stiffened at the sound of that voice and thoughts of getting to know Mariku better were instantly driven away by the familiar persuasive tones._

_Like seduction, it pulled at Ryou's heart, begging him to give in. _

_Closing his eyes he said pathetically, "I'm sorry Ishtar-sama." _

"_Would you let it go already? Stop calming me that, it's creepy," Mariku muttered and Ryou felt confused, actually wriggling away from Mariku. He always used to want to be called Ishtar-sama because of how powerful it sounded. _

_This conversation was doing unhealthy things to Ryou's understanding of the world and how it worked. Mariku pinned him again effortlessly and this time Ryou balked desperately. _

"_Try harder," Mariku encouraged and Ryou's first reaction was blank terror followed by the wish to curl into a ball underneath his oppressor until the torture was over but he knew that wouldn't work in this case either, since Mariku seemed willing to hold him prisoner forever._

_His last resort was to wrench his hand free and smash the heel of his palm into Mariku's chest as hard as he could. Mariku let out a grunt and held himself away a little bit, allowing Ryou more wiggle room to slide out of his grip, kicking him in his upper chest to hold him away before skittering backwards awkwardly, breath coming shallow and rapid as he panicked. _

"_Oh my God, I'm so sorry Ishtar-sama," He squeaked, looking at Mariku fearfully when he realized he had actually just hit someone which had happened a whole of maybe once in his life before. _

"_Calm down Ryou, it didn't even hurt," Mariku assured him with a roll of his eyes and an uncaring wave of his hand. "And stop calling me that! Seriously, anything but that," Mariku added with a small shudder. When Ryou didn't respond, still looking mildly frightened, Mariku rolled his eyes again. _

"_I know you know my name. Mar-i-ku, say it with me," He teased gently and Ryou forced his lips to open and say uncertainly, "Mariku...san?"_

_He didn't seem to like the 'san' ending but he didn't complain, simply shrugging and saying, "Close enough." _

**A/N: There you go! A little bit more insight into this confusing past of theirs ;)**


	8. Someone Like Me

**A/N: Short chapter just to finish up Ryou and Mariku's little chat. Who knows how that will go? You will when you finish the chapter ;) Also there is some texting in this chapter. Normally I'd use 'text chat' (Ex. you = u) to show that more clearly but I honestly cannot see Ryou or Bakura texting like that...**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

After that it got a lot harder to ignore the way Mariku watched him and Mariku determinedly tried to get him to join his and Bakura's conversations. Ryou smiled weakly at the memory, though it wasn't a particularly happy one.

Shaking his head he tried to clear these thoughts, frowning out at the field where the football team continued to run their drills unperturbed by his anxious thoughts. He'd lost sight of Mariku again, and the nerves returned as he thought about what he would say when he did get some time alone with Mariku.

Being alone with Mariku was awkward at the best of times and terrifying at the worst. He never knew what to expect from the spontaneous other boy. He couldn't remember exactly when he started crushing on Mariku but it complicated things even more.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out, knowing it would be Bakura texting him to see where he was. He was the only one that knew his number anyways since their father refused to pay for it and without his support they couldn't afford much luxury.

Bakura insisted on the cell phone though, not trusting Ryou to stay out of trouble that seemed to flock to him on a daily basis. A text message waited for him.

**Bakura:**_Where are you?_

Ryou knew his brother would probably come and find him himself if he didn't respond within thirty seconds so he quickly typed a response.

**Ryou:** _Waiting for practice to end. I said I was going to talk to Mariku after school._

**Bakura:** _Get home as soon as you're finished._

**Ryou:**_I will._

Ryou sighed, sliding the phone away again. Bakura wasn't your typical twin brother in any sense but he had reason to be concerned in his own bossy way. Their neighbourhood was hardly the nicest, especially after dark and it would take at least forty-five minutes to walk home by which time the sun would be setting.

Truthfully talking things out with Mariku made him more nervous than walking home alone through the bad area of town.

"What are you doing here?" A deep voice demanded and Ryou jumped half a foot in there air with an unmanly, "Eek!" Of surprise.

"U-um, I wanted to talk to you," He stammered quickly, trying to channel some inner calm as he locked eyes with Mariku who didn't apologize for startling him which led him to believe he was still a bit sore about what happened at lunch.

Mariku sighed, pulling off his helmet and jumping up to sit on the bleachers beside him.

"So talk," He said bluntly and Ryou resisted the urge to chew a hole through his lip.

"Well...I didn't want things to be awkward at lunch tomorrow so I thought I'd wait for you to finish so we could talk about...what happened earlier," He said hesitantly, glad he wasn't nearly as much of a nervous wreck as he had been around Mariku at first.

That day in jujitsu had been the closest they ever came to talking about the past but there'd been plenty of breakdowns on Ryou's part between then and now.

"Okay..." Mariku said suspiciously, trailing off. Ryou had never wanted to talk about his 'problem' before now so he had reason to be sceptical. Seeing that he wasn't going to make things easier, Ryou sighed then launched straight into things, deciding to just get it over with as he rung his ghostly hands together.

"Basically I wanted to apologize...a-and tell you that I really liked that hug earlier, and I'm sorry for wrecking things after upsetting you before that as well because we _are_ friends and I would be unhappy if we weren't. It's just that, when we're close like that I can't help remembering what happened before and you hurt me a lot back then. I know I need to let it go and I'm trying but sometimes I get nervous and when you get angry I get scared and...yah...so I-I'm sorry...I'm finished now," He wound up lamely, glancing between his hands and Mariku shyly, feeling his heart beating hard inside his chest.

Why did this have to be so hard? Mariku was frowning again with that confused look he got whenever the past was brought up. Ryou sighed, knowing what was coming. For some reason Mariku couldn't even begin to fathom how much he had hurt Ryou in the past.

It was like the whole thing was nothing but a few cruel comments to him when it had been so, so much more to Ryou. Internally Ryou felt guilt blossom, knowing there was so much more that he should be explaining to him, but he could barely muster the confidence for this, let alone the fuller much more painful version.

"You're talking about middle school right?" Mariku clarified and Ryou nodded slowly, internally hating himself for the half truth, watching him warily as he ran a tan hand through his pointed blond hair that stuck up wildly in all directions.

"I don't understand why that still bothers you so much," He mumbled but then shook his head impatiently. "What did I do that bothered you so much today anyways?" Ryou's face was pinched with pain but he forced himself to continue.

"When we hugged...like I said it wasn't that I didn't like it because I did," He said hurriedly, blush creeping into his cheeks, "But when I heard your voice it just reminded me of...you know, stuff."

"My _voice_ scared you?" Mariku asked with blunt scepticism and Ryou clasped his hands to his cheeks to hide the embarrassed red of his face while he nodded quickly.

"Ryou you can't actually still take the shit I spouted when we were kids seriously. You know I was fucked up back then, but its different now. Bakura pounded some sense back into my head," He said with a dry chuckle, remembering the way he and Bakura met fondly.

It took two years but he finally caught wind of the treatment Ryou had been receiving from his malicious classmate and Bakura hunted him down. Much swearing and beating the crap out of each other later, they came to an agreement of sorts.

"I know," Ryou said with frustration, dropping his hands to his lap again.

"I know _now_ but I guess I just sort of...forget?" He could barely understand his own problematic emotions, let alone explain them to Mariku.

Plus there was always that other, heavier memory weighing on the back of his mind. Blocking it out on a regular basis was something that had taken him years to master, but memories of Mariku's verbal torture never failed to trigger those horribly painful emotions.

"I don't get it," Mariku said helplessly again, trying to make his brain comprehend Ryou's illogical fear but he couldn't imagine fearing anyone so much since he never feared _anyone._

"Don't worry, I tried explaining it to Bakura and he didn't get it either," He said in a melancholy voice, propping his chin in his hand and his elbows on his knees, back hunched wearily.

"Baku-chan's not known for trying very hard to be understanding," Mariku snorted with a half laugh and Ryou shifted uncomfortably, hearing that fond tone again in his voice.

"Do you like him?" He asked abruptly, glancing out of the corner of his eye at him as Mariku blinked incomprehensively.

"'Kura?" He asked blankly and Ryou nodded. Mariku's face contorted in a distasteful scowl.

"Why would you think I liked _him?_ You know I'm in love with...someone else," He said looking at Ryou longingly and Ryou looked away quickly, bright red streaking across snow white cheeks, curling his knees up to his chest as though to hide the way his heart was pounding rapidly.

"O-oh," He stammered quietly and Mariku just shrugged it off like he always did.

"Don't sound so surprised, it's not like I've never told you that before," He said bitterly in his low voice and Ryou sighed quietly again.

"I know, but it still surprises me every time. I find it hard to believe you could love someone like me," He said shyly, glancing up from under his lashes at Mariku sweetly, an almost hopeful expression on his face.

"Why, just because you're terrified every time I try to make a move on you?" Mariku teased gently, laughing that low throaty laugh that Ryou could feel vibrating in his very chest, scooting closer to him quickly.

A cold breeze swept across the field making both of them shiver as they locked eyes. Or maybe it was something else making them shiver.

"C-can we try that hug again?" Ryou requested flushing at the surprised look on Mariku's face at the suggestion.

"Um...only if you're sure," He said uncertainly, remembering the breakdown Ryou suffered earlier and surprised that he wanted to try again so soon but his willpower wasn't up to saying no.

Ryou moved closer so there knees pressed together and Mariku looked down at the shy object of his loving affection and despite all the trouble that came with it he couldn't even imagine not being crazy about him.

"I'm sure," He said determinedly and Mariku gathered him close in his arms with no further adieu, burying his face in those white locks to muffle any sounds of content that might pass his lips. Ryou gave a small squeak of alarm but then melted into the embrace he had asked for, placing his hands on his shoulders and his head on his solid chest.

Normally Mariku would under no circumstances sit on the bleachers just hugging another guy but with Ryou everything was different. Sure he'd like to make out with him some day but considering how easy he was to scare, that didn't seem very plausible at the moment.

As far as hugging went Ryou was soft and cuddly and wonderful to hug. Ryou pulled away slowly after a long moment, smiling sheepishly at Mariku's disappointed expression.

"Bakura told me to get home as soon as possible. He doesn't want me walking in our neighbourhood after the sunsets," He explained and Mariku's frown deepened.

"Come on, I'll give you a ride home," He said simply, standing up with a stretch. Ryou scrambled to his feet after him, looking uncertain.

"Well it's kind of out of your way..."

"Bakura would kill me slowly if I let you walk home. He was probably counting on me giving you a ride," He said bluntly, rolling his eyes at Bakura's over protectiveness. True Ryou was a sitting duck and a danger magnet but he didn't need to be mothered by his own twin brother.

"Alright...thanks Mariku," Ryou said shyly and Mariku just smirked down at him, shooting him a wink as he hopped off the bleachers. He wasn't going to make a big deal out of it but he'd have to be deaf not to hear the difference in the way Ryou had said his name. Not just because he'd removed the painfully polite 'san' ending, but there's was just something...affectionate about it.

"Don't thank me; I expect some payment you know. I wasn't quite done...hugging you yet."

"Mariku!"

"I was only joking..."

**A/N: Those two are so messed up yet so awesome together! Did anyone catch the hints to more trauma in Ryou's past? Well I hope you did because it will continue to be hinted at for a long, long time ;) For those of you missing the thiefshipping next chapter certainly shakes things up a bit for their relationship and shines some dramatic lighting on Malik's own story.**


	9. Crush Thing

**A/N: Huzzah, we get some insight on Malik's past this chapter. Yes it's AU but I wanted to make them as IC as possible so of course everyone has to have some trauma to mess them up! The poor characters, I'm so mean to them...well I hope you enjoy it anyways!**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

"I'm bored," Mariku whined and Bakura glared over at him with annoyance.

"I'm not the one who told you to skip," Bakura simply scoffed, scribbling a couple more words on his paper which was almost finished. The only reason he'd skipped was because as usual he hadn't finished his homework but in this case it was actually worth enough of a mark that he figured it was worth finishing.

Now it was lunch and he wondered impatiently where Malik and Ryou were. It'd been over a week since Malik came crashing into the picture gracelessly and this crush thing was getting annoying, constantly reminding him of its presence.

Since he was technically still in tenth grade it wasn't like they shared any classes together outside of English and lunch. Unfortunately Bakura had never been a patient person.

"Class is even more boring unless Ryou is in it," Mariku mumbled, sinking down in his seat. Bakura grit his teeth with annoyance, sick of hearing about his twin. Ever since there little 'talk' last week where Ryou ended up coming home in Mariku's car looking dazed but not upset, the two had been giving each other googly eyes all the time when they thought the other wasn't looking.

Each morning Ryou greeted Mariku and after the first couple awkward moments Mariku started getting used to it and suddenly all he could talk about how Ryou said 'hi' or 'bye' which was unbelievably annoying.

Bakura's only small condolence was that Ryou was happier than he'd been in awhile and at least he had Malik to gag over their cuteness with. He had to admit, the kid had a sense of humour to match his own and when he grinned cheekily after nailing someone with a smartass snipe he was just so damn...cute.

Ugh, he was becoming as pathetic as Mariku.

Writing one final sentence he shoved it in his bag and pulled out his lunch irritably. It was impossible to focus when those sparkling lavender eyes danced in his mind's eye.

Chomping down on his sandwich he tried to banish thoughts of the hot (yet cute) annoying (yet inexplicably attractive) kid who had been sitting on his brain for the past week, refusing to budge.

"You know me and Ryou" –

"Would you shut up about him?" Bakura growled, banging his hand against the table with frustration. "I realize you're absolutely in love with him but really, _I don't care._" Mariku sulked, getting his back up again.

"Well at least I'm making progress with him. I think he's starting to get over his stupid fear of whatever the hell he thinks happened in the past." Sighing, once again melancholy, Mariku glared at the table now.

"I don't know why he cares. Yes, I was a bastard to him, but it wasn't that big of a" –His common rant was cut off as Bakura got fed up and chucked his sandwich container at his head, forcing him to duck and turn his glare on him.

"Stop worrying about Ryou. Go make out with some other guy to get your mind off of him," He half ordered half pleaded though internally he thought he would never suggest it to someone who would actually do that.

As annoying as it was to hear about it constantly from Mariku, it was true, Ryou was extremely fragile for many reasons. Seeing Mariku making out with another guy would probably shatter him all over again now that he'd just started trusting him again.

"Oh no, I only dream about kissing Touzoku's," Mariku flirted obnoxiously, giving Bakura a twisted grin.

"Don't worry I'm only interested in making out with Ishtar's lately to," Bakura responded deviously and Mariku narrowed his eyes, obviously catching the meaning of his words.

"If you're talking about Malik you can forget it. The brat doesn't even know he's gay yet, let alone do I want him experimenting with you," Mariku said firmly and Bakura rolled his eyes flippantly though the red mahogany lit up with the sparks of stubbornness.

"I can't help it if I find him interesting. Besides, he likes me," He said proudly, glaring at the object of his affection's older brother, daring him to object. Mariku leaned closer, ready for a fight.

"Did he say he liked you?"

"Obviously not, he won't even admit what a fruit he is."

"Then how can you _know_ he likes you?"

"Because it's obvious."

"Egomaniac,"

"Over protective, don't you think? You know he's going to experiment sooner or later; it might as well be on me. It's not like I'll treat him badly."

"I don't want you to hurt him."

"I'm not going to _hurt_ him" –

"I didn't mean physically and you know it," Mariku ground out through gritted teeth, leaning in close to glare directly into Bakura's eyes.

"I'm not going to take him then leave him if that's what you're thinking," Bakura said flatly irritated that Mariku thought he would do that to his younger brother even if he'd done it to other people.

That was different though, he didn't _know_ those people. He happened to actually like Malik as strange as that was for him to admit.

"Hey faggots! Get a room!" Someone shouted and Bakura scowled, hating to be called a 'faggot' though technically he supposed having a crush on Malik made him gay. With hair like his he'd been called such names far too many times in his life to let it go unchecked.

Mariku looked equally disgruntled to be called so rudely and when their eyes met again Bakura smirked, seeing the same idea occur to Mariku at the same time it did to him. Bakura raised an eyebrow slyly and Mariku grinned sadistically.

"I did say I was bored," He said thoughtfully and then they both leaned forward, turning a simple kiss into a heated make out, moaning loudly for their audience.

Bakura was careful to keep his tongue in his mouth despite the fact that anyone watching wouldn't have believed it as he knotted his fingers in Mariku's white blond hair while they kissed 'passionately'.

As much as neither he nor Mariku saw a problem with making out together as a prank he respected him enough that he didn't want to totally screw up their friendship by sticking his tongue down his throat. He'd never felt any desire to hook up with Mariku possibly because of how they met but he'd never had any lustful or romantic inclinations towards him.

Not the way he did to Malik anyways.

"Malik is way hotter then you," He said between kisses, feeling Mariku scowl against his mouth though he let out a convincing moan gaining sounds of disgust from one table over. It was like music to his ears.

"The brat is definitely not hotter than me," He growled, chomping down on Bakura's lip punishingly. Bakura just gave a chilling laugh, breathing threat straight into Mariku's mouth.

"Call me a masochists but that actually felt good," He taunted and Mariku pulled back from the kiss for a small pause, looking uncertain. Bakura opened his mahogany eyes long enough to roll them with a small glare then leaned in to kiss his hesitating friend again.

"Calm down Mariku, I just told you I had a crush..._thing_ on your brother," He grumbled, unwilling to believe Mariku actually thought even for a second that he _liked_ him liked him.

"You have a crush on him?" Mariku asked with surprise, kissing back now though his enthusiasm was hampered by his curiosity.

"Yes, that's what I just said," Bakura said dryly. "What did you think I was going on about before?"

"I thought you just wanted to sleep with him," Mariku admitted and Bakura scowled hoping his next kiss was particularly bruising as he returned the biting favour with much sharper teeth then Mariku had.

"Ouch, what the hell, sorry for being surprised you actually admitted to having a crush on someone. The brat no less, I thought you had better taste then that," Mariku snapped, licking his own lip to sooth the bite marks Bakura left.

"You don't think Ryou's into him to do you?" Mariku asked worriedly after a moment and Bakura laughed, turning it into a romantic sigh, something that could give the toughest person chills in his cold voice.

"I wouldn't put it passed him to have noticed my, ah, feelings for Malik already. He probably wants to play matchmaker, not hook up with him."

"Don't push him farther then he wants to go," Mariku warned like an annoying parent and Bakura loosened one hand to smack the side of his head irritably, gaining a whine of annoyance.

"Stop treating me like I'm going to try and rape him, you know I don't sink that low. Besides, he wants me all the way; he just hasn't admitted it yet."

"Please, Malik doesn't want you that badly yet. He might have a little crush but he'll never admit to it."

"Ten bucks says I prove you wrong by the end of the year."

"Ten bucks says you're on," Mariku accepted the bet fiercely though he had to admit, Malik could do worse than Bakura.

If nothing else he was an excellent kisser.

"Well here's your chance, they're coming our way," Mariku murmured and Bakura's eyes flickered open and to the side, kissing Mariku a little more deeply rather then pulling away when he saw Malik and Ryou slowing in their steps looking a cross of disgusted and confused at the twos position.

Malik got his tongue back quickly, seeing Bakura looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

"What the fuck are you two doing?"

Bakura pulled out of the kiss languidly with a cool chuckle before asking, "What does it look like we're doing?"

"Hooking up," Malik replied bluntly, looking a bit put out to Bakura's glee.

"Tell me Malik," He began, leaning forward to dim his dark eyes suggestively at him, "Does the idea of us hooking up make you hot and bothered or just plain jealous?" Malik immediately flushed, seeing he'd walked into a trap and began to stammer that he wasn't jealous but it was pointless really.

The jealousy was written across his face like permanent marker and Bakura's smirk said he was enjoying it immensely. Ryou also looked hurt and a little uncomfortable. Seeing the expression on his face Mariku rolled his eyes at Bakura's teasing.

"We weren't hooking up, calm down, we were just playing a prank on a homophobic ass over there," He said rudely, gesturing over his shoulder vaguely. Malik stretched up a little bit, craning his neck to see exactly who his brother was referring to and Bakura decided to help him out, spinning in his chair to shoot the ogling spectator and friend's a big wink complete with exaggerated kiss in their direction.

Malik snickered then asked, "Can I help?" Bakura wasn't sure what he was getting at until he turned to look at Ryou suggestively.

"Sure you ca" –Mariku started but then saw which convenient direction Malik was looking in speculatively.

"Don't even think about it," He hissed and Malik sneered nastily in his direction while Ryou flushed and edged away awkwardly.

"You deserve it for making out with 'Kura," He said offhandedly and Bakura smirked smugly, giving Mariku a 'take that' look. Malik saw and scowled, kicking himself internally for saying it out loud.

He was still trying to figure out his own feelings towards the harsh Touzoku but it had been like a slap in the face seeing him making out with _Mariku_ like that. Ryou didn't seem very happy about it either. His insides were still churning as the image of the two of them kissing heatedly flashed across his mind's eye, making him see red.

How could Bakura do that to him? So they weren't dating...or even doing anything outside maybe flirting a bit occasionally, but still! Malik wanted to pull his own hair out in frustration. He barely knew Bakura and he was screwing with his mind royally.

Mariku relaxed, letting out a lazy yawn that seemed designed purely to mock Malik's quest to get back at him.

"Eh, if you're trying to get back at me for kissing Bakura you're wasting your time. He doesn't do exclusive relationships, he's kissed lots of people before," Mariku said cruelly and Malik didn't let the hurt show on his face, knowing that's what Mariku was aiming for.

"How do you know I'm not helping Ryou get back at you for cheating on him?" Malik asked and was rewarded by a guilty pout from his brother who glanced at Ryou worriedly.

"You know we were just joking around, right Ryou?" He asked pathetically and Ryou hesitated, glancing at Malik out of the corner of his eye.

"Um...it looked pretty realistic to me but we're not even dating so I guess it's none of my business..." He mumbled awkwardly and Mariku looked stricken, especially when Malik grinned cheekily, grabbing Ryou and pulling him closer.

Ryou allowed Malik to pull him in but gave him a worried look, tilting his head so the other two wouldn't see.

"Are you sure this is a good idea? Mariku actually looks upset..." Ryou said worriedly and Malik rolled his eyes, tilting Ryou's chin up a little in his hand. Quietly he stomached his disgust, knowing all three of his gay (supposedly except for Bakura) companions would take offence to it.

That didn't change the fact that, presented with the opportunity, kissing Ryou who was very much a boy no matter how girly he looked grossed him out a little. The thought reminded him that he definitely wasn't gay...but then the image of Bakura kissing Mariku flashed through his head and he felt undeniable jealousy.

Was that supposed to make sense? How could he be disgusted at the idea of kissing one boy and want nothing _but_ to kiss the same boy's twin? He took his mind off it by focusing on helping Ryou.

"That's the point Ryou. You have to show him he can't make out with other guys just because you guys aren't technically dating," He snickered slightly seeing Mariku's infuriated look when he dimmed his eyes at Ryou mock seductively.

To his annoyance Bakura looked like he couldn't care less, paying more attention to the guy across the room that had gotten them into this mess.

"Malik" –Ryou started again nervously but Malik just hushed him, leaning in for a kiss but at that moment something smacked against his arm, he heard the clank as it hit his hidden armband. Moving away from Ryou much to both his and Mariku's relief he looked curiously at the table, seeing that someone appeared to have thrown a granola bar at him, still in its wrapper.

Bakura smirked, wondering how exactly Malik would react to this. He had been watching the guy at the table over scheming with his friend's and taking careful aim with his projectile. Malik looked at the granola bar once more, expression fathomless, then at the guy laughing with his friend's acting like he was tough.

Eyes narrowing dangerously, Malik snatched up the granola bar, giving a small indignant noise before stomping over to the group of onlookers who seemed to think there was something funny about throwing things at him.

As he approached he liked that the guy wasn't looking so cocky now, smile slipping from his face as he saw that Malik didn't look like he was planning on holding back. Stopping in front of him Malik brought up his hand –and promptly shoved the granola bar, wrapper and all, straight into his mouth.

The guy gagged comically, crossing his eyes to try and see the offending object. Reaching up he tried to dislodge it but Malik batted his hand away, shoving the bar farther into his throat until the guy had to shut his mouth to stop his gag reflex.

"What's that? Nothing to say now?" Malik asked calmly, removing his hand to fold his arms impassively while the guy quickly coughed out the bar with several wheezing splutters.

"..." He attempted to speak but it came out raspy and garbled. Malik arched one white blond eyebrow, trying to get the gist of what was probably a pathetic threat.

"You can make a fucking YouTube video and show it to every teacher in the school if you want but I still care more about kicking your sorry ass then I do about getting suspended," He hinted ominously and the guy looked pissed that Malik clearly had no plans of going anywhere.

"You think you could kick my ass, fag? You're nothing more than a little girl whose parents don't want her," He taunted, balling his fists to get ready for what was surely going to become a fight. "I heard them talking about you, you think you're hot stuff but really you're just a _fag _and a foster brat. Is it true your Otou-san killed himself to get away from you and your brother?"

SNAP!

The guy barely got to finish his sentence as fury flashed in Malik's cold lavender eyes, backhanding him across the face with a resounding smack and sending him straight to the floor, clutching his cheek with a pained moan. Malik didn't give him a chance to recuperate, planting a firm kick in his side, winding him as he collapsed back on the ground again.

"Don't talk shit when that's all you are," He snapped coldly but kept his composure as he felt many eyes on him now. No doubt people were wondering what had been said to him to make him snap on the other guy.

"Fuck you man," The guy on the ground managed and Malik's face contorted in a scowl, sorely tempted to kick his face in but knowing he could face expulsion for that.

"What, you're mad because I kicked your ass _like I told you I was going to?_ You should know better than to insult someone who's already pissed off. Idiot, I'm not wasting any more time on you," He said nastily then left him with one last solid kick in his ribs so that he'd have enough bruises to remember him by before walking back over to his table calmly.

Ryou was gaping at him as he sat down with a sigh and Bakura had one eyebrow raised, curiosity gleaming in his mahogany eyes as he found a whole new appreciation or the Egyptian boy with so many interesting mysteries surrounding him.

Mariku slowly started clapping and Malik looked at him, surprised to see the pride on his face.

"I didn't know you had it in you, brat. Even if you get suspended I doubt that asshole will be screwing with you again," He crowed with a delighted expression and Malik couldn't help smirking with pride as well under the flattery.

"Hopefully it will teach people not to talk about our family," He said in a deadly tone though, feeling his hate still bubbling on the inside dangerously, just waiting for something to set it off.

"You care that much about being called a fag?" Bakura asked, not bothering to mask his interest as he appraised Malik carefully across the table.

"No, I just don't like when people talk shit about our family just because we're foster kids," Malik mumbled, still stewing after his 'fight' that hadn't been nearly enough to take the edge off his anger.

Bakura continued staring at him, trying to figure out what it was Malik wasn't saying. Some people would believably be angered by someone commenting on their foster life but Malik hadn't seemed sensitive on the issue whenever it came up in passing comment before.

Mariku never called their foster parents by 'oka-san' or 'otou-san', stubbornly referring to them only as his 'yadonoushi', but Malik had never even frowned upon it. In fact, Bakura couldn't remember him referring to their foster parents as anything, only mentioning their fellow foster 'siblings' Ishizu and Rishid.

It made Bakura wonder what exactly Malik's problem was with whatever the guy had said to him.

Ryou poked him and shook his head firmly, as though warning him not to ask but he continued staring at Malik who glared back stubbornly, a scowl twisting his pink lips. He let out a frustrated sigh, lavender eyes flashing as he finally snapped.

"Fine, I was pissed because he brought up Otou-san. The bastard hit me when he was around but now he's dead and gone and I don't want him brought up again, alright?" He said harshly then dropped his chin to his arms sulkily though he looked more pissed off than upset.

Ryou winced, giving Bakura a look that said _I told you not to ask_ but Bakura ignored it, looking between Mariku and Malik, the former who looked as surprised by Malik's outburst as Bakura was. Ryou seemed to be the only one who saw it coming, though with Ryou's past that was hardly surprising.

He could sense abuse from a mile away.

"Fair enough," Bakura finally said with a shrug and Malik sat up a little, giving him a suspicious look that said he didn't believe he'd let it go that easily. "I don't see how it's my business," He simply said and Malik looked away, seeming embarrassed this time though his temper had cooled.

"Thanks," He muttered, avoiding Bakura's gaze and Ryou giggled gently seeing how Bakura accepted the thanks with an almost soft expression on his face. The way he looked at Malik seemed caring and, dare he think it, sort of sweet.

What was the world coming to?

Mariku seemed to agree because he caught Ryou's eyes looking a bit confused by the confrontation. Ryou drew a heart in the air around them and Mariku smirked, seeing what he was getting at though Bakura pointedly ignored the two of them.

His thoughts were once again dominated by the strange boy who had stolen all his interest.

Damn this crush thing.

**A/N: Aw, Bakura, doesn't it suck having a crush? Well I'm sure he'll learn how to deal with it ;) At least Malik finally did something physical to impress Bakura even if it wasn't on purpose! Also, I used the Japanese term 'yadonoushi' meaning 'landlord' which is what Bakura calls Ryou in the manga. I threw it in because it sounded like the polite yet mocking sort of thing the two darker halves would totally use.**


	10. Love Muffin

**A/N: Here's a long new chapter! I really like this one because it gives a bunch of new information on the Mariku/Ryou mystery while also building up the thiefshipping. When I wrote this chapter I was thinking 'hm, I need something between these two plot arcs, something cute' and poof! This is what I got. Probably because I ate a muffin for breakfast that day or something equally obscure. Either way, hope you all enjoy!**

**Warning: There's a lot of swearing coming from very angry males in this chapter xD**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

Malik stomped down the hallway, ready to the lash out at the next person who looked at him, but no, he was reining it in –at least until he got to the person who deserved his anger. He was coming up behind them now; Ryou was hovering at his locker, facing Mariku who had _luckily_ decided to come early and surprise his crush by popping up at his locker.

Of course that only succeeded in unnerving Ryou who didn't deal with any sort of surprise well but since they were talking he was the only one who had a chance of seeing Malik coming down the hallway towards them. A perplexed look crossed his innocent face at the sight of his friend soaking wet and none too happy about it.

Bakura was standing on the other side of the narrow hallway, leaning nonchalantly against what was probably someone else's locker. He looked more like he was supervising some ill-advised play date between two children and was extremely bored to boot.

"Eh...nice weather we're having?" Ryou said in confusion, knowing it had been raining earlier and wondering why Malik was only coming in now completely drenched. Not to mention completely pissed off.

He never knew what to do in these spontaneous situations, like Mariku popping up at his locker this morning just to 'talk'. Rolling with the punches was Bakura's specialty, like now for instance as he opened one lazy eye and observed Malik's irritated approach without saying a word.

Bakura couldn't help a small smirk, wondering how Malik managed to get himself caught in the rain. He knew for a fact that Mariku hated cold, wet or really anything but hot sunny weather and he wouldn't put it past Malik to feel the same since they both grew up in Egypt.

He had to admit though; even hissing like a cat in the bath Malik's tan skin fairly glistened beneath the fluorescent lights, blond hair plastered to his shoulders. As usual he was too damn hot for his own good. Bakura chose not to approach him though, watching instead with curiosity as Malik marched up behind his brother.

His hand curled around Mariku's taller, broader shoulder and wrenched him around to lay a loud smack across his cheek with one flat palm. Bakura snickered, recognizing the enraged move as what had been deemed 'Malik's bitch slap' since he got suspended for hitting the other guy a couple weeks ago.

It had only been for a day but it left plenty of time for Bakura to think of several annoying taunts to use against him. Not enough to stop him from doing it again it seemed.

Ryou choked slightly as Malik didn't hesitate to strike his brother who made a small pained sound but mostly just looked stunned as he tried to comprehend what had happened.

"What'd I do to deserve that?" He grumbled at last, rubbing the slightly raised red mark on his cheek irritably.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU DID? I'm going to fucking KILL YOU for scratching it!" Malik howled, completely flipping as he threw his hands up in the air with exasperation. Mariku didn't even flinch, just rolling his eyes.

"Please, I didn't hurt it," –

"What do you think scratched it, the friggin _Easter bunny_?" Malik raged, not giving him a chance to finish his sentence. Interest thoroughly caught, Bakura moved from his spot across the hall to step between them calmly though most people would probably consider that suicide.

"What's going on?" He asked casually and Ryou latched onto Mariku's arm, trying hopelessly to pull him away from the raging hellfire Malik had turned into, still glaring spitefully at his older brother as he tried to step around Bakura who just blocked him again.

"He stole it then fucking scratched it up. What the hell is _wrong_ with you?" –

"I told you I didn't scratch it," –

"I said you couldn't touch it for a reason damn it!" –

"A reason which doesn't make sense since _I didn't scratch it._"

"Then who the fuck do you think did, baka?"

"Probably someone you pissed off keyed it" –

"You're the only person that would do something that stupid!"

"Both of you shut the fuck up or I'll kiss Ryou," Bakura snapped loudly, effectively stunning them both stupid.

"You're not serious are you?" Mariku asked, horrified at the mental image of the twin brothers _kissing._ Malik looked less disgusted but remained silent if still extremely disgruntled. Ryou gave Bakura a nervous look, wondering if he was lying or if he should start running right around now.

Bakura rolled his eyes at him as though to say 'you actually thought I was serious?' He knew Mariku wouldn't risk it but he kind of expected Ryou and Malik to be smarter than to think he'd kiss his own _brother. _

"Alright, you first, what happened," Bakura demanded, jabbing a finger in Malik's direction who glared back sulkily.

"I woke up to Mariku driving away with _my _baby and when I finally got here after running through the friggin rain; I found it in the parking lot with a huge scratch on it!" He spat furiously, once again moving in Mariku's direction though Bakura pushed him back with one hand easily.

"Don't bother, you're not going anywhere," Bakura said offhandedly, fixing him in place with a sharp look. "What the hell is 'your baby'?" He asked and Mariku snickered at the irrational jealousy in his voice.

"It's the brats precious motorcycle which I _didn't _scratch," Mariku explained, provoking Malik into throwing another hissy fit which he looked like he might do if it weren't for Bakura's curious blink and:

"You actually drive a motorcycle?"

"Yes," Malik replied uncertainly, not sure what the point of the comment was exactly.

"I have to admit...that's kind of hot," Bakura said frankly and a pink tinge flickered in Malik's cheeks as he ducked his head with embarrassment.

"Better without the scratch mark," He muttered darkly, giving his brother the evil eye once again though he just rolled his eyes, running his hand casually through his white blond spikes the jutted from his head.

"How many times do I have to say it? I didn't scratch your damn bike. Just be happy 'Kura finds anything attractive about you at all," He said looking down at his much smaller brother languidly. Malik stiffened, lips pressed into a hard line of indignation at the comment.

Bakura said nothing, simply watching curiously to see what he'd do. As Malik had shown before, when push came to shove he wasn't afraid to shove back. Unfortunately he wasn't the only one who had noticed this.

"Since we're all here early does anyone want to come with me to the cafeteria? It's kind of cold out today and I wouldn't mind something hot to drink," Ryou broke in smoothly with an innocent smile on his face. He wasn't fooling Bakura though; he knew he was only speaking up to avoid the fight Mariku and Malik were clearly itching to have.

"Sure, I could use some caffeine before another shitty English lecture. Sato-sensei has clearly never been outside of Japan," He scoffed and Ryou glared at him for his bad language but chose to ignore it for now.

"Are you coming Mariku?" He asked sweetly instead, turning to tilt his head up with a smile just for Mariku who looked a little flattered at the personal 'invitation'.

"I guess," He said hesitantly, glancing at Malik cautiously who Ryou was mostly avoiding since he seemed particularly volatile this morning. At Mariku's side glance he glared back, showing he wasn't over the bike incident yet but he stomped away in the direction of the cafeteria, letting it go for now.

Bakura shrugged slightly at Mariku who looked exasperated by his anger, trailing after the rampaging teen who walked straight down the hall with no regards for anyone else who might have been in his way.

Ryou followed hesitantly as well but a warm pressure around his hand made him stop, looking down curiously to see Mariku's large dark hand cradling his own.

"Um..." He said uselessly, looking away with apparent embarrassment and the usual accompanying boatload of nerves.

"If you don't hold on to me I might hit the brat for being so oversensitive," Mariku said blandly though there was a slight smirk curling his lips at the ace of excuses and Ryou hesitated then nodded slowly with a shy smile, curling his hand loosely around Mariku's.

When Mariku's grip tightened in response, walking quickly after Bakura's disappearing form, Ryou's breath caught in his throat, fear constricting his chest.

He was still getting used to the lack of personal space that brought back bad memories but it got a little easier each time. Their attached hands swung a little with each step and he could feel the curious stares flickering in their direction.

Heat crawled up his neck into his face until he was sure it must be obvious against his deathly pale skin. Mariku was walking with a prideful swagger that said he enjoyed every second of it but Ryou couldn't tear his eyes from the ground, wondering at the nature of their slowly growing friendship that tended to drift more towards a relationship most of the time.

They weren't really dating and neither of them really wanted to talk about where exactly they stood with each other since things were awkward enough as it was but he kind of liked where they were at.

Sure he had no idea how to respond every time Mariku popped up out of nowhere like he did this morning or did something that took him off guard but it was a sort of pleasant thrill that left his insides buzzing pleasantly.

It was nice to know someone really cared about him despite his various awkward traits, particularly the occasional panic attacks where he couldn't face Mariku for several minutes before he calmed down enough to move on.

At least Mariku wasn't the emotional type who wanted to talk about it every time or really anytime. He didn't hide the fact that it annoyed him but Ryou was grateful that Mariku didn't bother asking what set him off; some of the reasons were just plain embarrassing.

Like now for example, he could remember perfectly how Mariku would touch his hand and lean across the desk, freezing him to the spot as he whispered in a sweet voice for Ryou to 'trust' him. He would then proceed to tell him another of his infamous horror stories, only he'd put Ryou in it, so he was the one being raped, abused or murdered.

The worst part was that Mariku always made himself the murderer and at the end he would always promise that he wouldn't do it again. He'd be there the next day though, prepared with a new story, and the day after that as well. So Ryou had reason to have a couple trust issues with him.

Bakura looked back, moderately amused by the sight of Ryou and Mariku attempting to hold hands without Ryou turning into a trembling mess. He wouldn't have blamed him if it weren't for the fact that Mariku had gone through several months of therapy to control his...interesting...tendencies.

As it was he had to agree with Mariku that Ryou needed to grow a backbone and get over the past, especially since he clearly didn't plan on telling Mariku about the other parts of _their _past. Bakura didn't really care if he didn't tell him about Amane's death, after all he'd never told him either, but if he wasn't going to tell Mariku about it he had to get over it instead of just blaming it on Mariku's faults.

Mariku wasn't doing anything to hurt him or even freak him out anymore. In fact it was the opposite; he'd gone through everything but Chinese water torture to get 'better'. He could still fondly remember the first time they 'met' back before Mariku had had any help when all three of them were in ninth grade.

**Flashback**

_Bakura banged on Ryou's door again, frustrated beyond belief with his twin who had always been too weak for his own good. _

"_Come on Ryou, if you want me to beat someone up for you just tell me but hiding is pointless," He shouted through the door. _

"_It doesn't matter, I'm never going back there," Ryou's muffled voice responded. The poor kid was probably crying into his pillow over something someone said to him. He'd made it through exactly one day of ninth grade before deciding he was never going back again. _

_That in itself surprised Bakura since Ryou was generally the 'suffer in silence' type. Watching the horrifying incident that took both your mother and younger sister from you and then being abandoned by your father to live alone with your twin brother did that to a person. _

_Well it didn't matter; he'd probably be over it and ready to drag himself back to school by tomorrow anyways._

_..._

_Ryou stayed firmly in his room for three days, only coming out for food or the bathroom when Bakura was at school or asleep so he couldn't ambush him. _

_Bakura quickly lost patience with his sulking game, ignoring him after awhile, but seeing that Ryou still wasn't taking any initiative to shake off this sudden hatred of school, he got mildly concerned. It really wasn't like Ryou to pout over 'nothing' so that left Bakura wondering if something really had happened._

_Eventually he skipped school, sitting outside Ryou's door until he opened it to come out for food, shocked to see Bakura sitting there. Before he could slam the door again Bakura had stuck his foot in the frame and kicked it wide open. _

_Ryou was a mess, his hair was almost as knotted as Bakura's and his eyes were rimmed with red like he'd been crying for a long time. The first words out of his mouth were probably the most defiant he'd ever uttered in his entire life: _

"_Nothing you say or do will ever make me go back to that place." _

_Bakura promptly knocked him flat on his back, crouching on top of him until he told him exactly why he was so scared of going back to school. _

_No amount of squirming or pleading would get him to leave so eventually Ryou broke down crying and told him about 'Ishtar-sama' who had been bullying him for the past two years and how he had thought going to high school would change that but that the other boy was still in one of his classes and how nothing had changed and how he was still utterly terrified of him. _

_Bakura listened to the entire story unblinkingly and at the end asked, "What's his name?" _

_Ryou looked back with terror in his milk chocolate eyes before whispering, "Ishtar Mariku." _

"_Mariku? Heh, he's in some of my classes to," Bakura replied with dark amusement before getting off of his brother who scrambled to his feet after him, now looking wary of whatever Bakura was planning. _

"_Stay here, I'll be back," Bakura had ordered, pushing him back on the bed then walked out the door, slamming it behind him ominously._

_..._

_It didn't take long for Bakura to find 'Ishtar Mariku' at school, all it took were a couple well placed glares and loose threats to get himself pointed in the boys direction. One look into cold mauve eyes said he'd found the right person. _

_His eccentric appearance didn't take away from the threatening aura around him. Bakura introduced himself as Touzoku and immediately saw the flash of recognition on Mariku's face. He wasted no time inviting him outside for a little 'talk'. _

_The sadistic grin Mariku gifted the invitation with was creepy and immediately had Bakura wondering if he wasn't entirely stable –a fact that was quickly proven when they reached the parking lot and attempted to beat the crap out of each other. _

_Bakura only gave him one chance to explain, asking Mariku why he'd targeted Ryou and Mariku simply responded that he was easy to manipulate. Seeing that he was outmatched by Mariku's size and strength Bakura resorted on keeping his head out of reach, landing light blows as he danced circles around the other boy with taunting words. _

_Mariku seemed to flicker between uncontrolled rage and emotionless. During the rage fits, he could catch Bakura and force him to the ground, resulting in many scrapes and bruises that would take days to stop throbbing but Bakura was not a quitter. _

_When he was emotionless he just stood there and took whatever Bakura threw at him, even showing bits of shame sometimes. Even when he was completely pinned to the ground Bakura mocked him even if it felt like his insides were burning and his stomach wanted to empty everything inside it. _

_While kneeling on top of him, Mariku got that blank look in his eyes again, asking, "Why don't you ever just stay down?" Bakura spat blood, wrestling to flip Mariku and slam him back into the rough pavement. He knelt with one knee pressed against his throat though Mariku merely looked a little depressed and irritated. _

"_Because you did something so bad to my brother that now he can't even think about you without pissing himself from fear," He said furiously and a trace of that sadistic grin flickered on his face, prompting Bakura's fist to ram into his sternum. _

"_You think that's fucking funny?" Bakura demanded and Mariku coughed, hopefully choking on his own karma but still managed to grin some more, bringing another fist to his teeth, filling his mouth with blood that he swallowed painfully. _

"_What the fuck is wrong with you?" Bakura snapped, driving his knee harder against his neck, pushing the air from his gasping lungs. _

"_I don't know," Mariku gasped desperately, convincing Bakura to let up just a little bit. _

"_What do you mean you don't know?" He asked dangerously and Mariku just deadpanned, "If I knew why I was so fucked up I would tell you. Maybe Ryou knows." _

_That last comment was a little too much for Bakura, bringing on another round of kicking, biting, scratching, punching and swearing furiously. _

_This time Mariku held his pin, knee strategically placed between his legs so that if Bakura even tried to struggle it would cause immediate pain, fingers wrapped around Bakura's neck tight enough to bruise as he choked for air._

_It was only his raw determination that saved him, dragging his hands up to wrap around Mariku's neck in a weak grip but it made Mariku loosen his grip in surprise, rolling off of him. Bakura immediately curled in a defensive ball while coughing and trying to get some oxygen into his lungs that felt battered and broken. _

"_How can you still be trying to fight when I can easily kick your ass and you know it?" Mariku asked curiously as Bakura dragged himself back up to his knees for another round, determination burning in red eyes. It reminded him of Ryou's gaze only it wasn't laced with fear, instead showing pure defiance. _

"_I told you," Bakura rasped, licking the fresh blood from his lips, "nobody fucks with my brother and gets away with it." Emotion, like pain or understanding flickered across Mariku's face though it was hard to tell with the variety of colourful marks marring it. _

"_I've done some bad shit for my brother," He mumbled, digging his fingers into the ground as he tried to stand up but ended up crashing back to the pavement painfully though he gave little more than a grunt in indication._

"_So you understand why I had to kick your ass for Ryou's sake?" Bakura asked, getting one leg up then pulling himself up on the other, gritting his teeth with a hiss against the pain of standing on his wobbly legs again. _

"_We done fighting then?" Mariku asked, still sitting hunched on the ground, either lacking the will or the desire to make himself get up again. Bakura extended a hand to him and Mariku looked at it blankly for a moment then shook his head slowly, grabbing it in his own and bounding to his feet in a mighty leap though it must have hurt. _

_Bakura bore the brunt of scrapes from the fight but he'd landed his own set of bruising blows on the other. He released the others hands, giving a small shrug. _

"_We're done fighting if you're done fucking with my brother. Besides, if what you said about your brother is true then I could use someone to watch my back around here." Mariku gave him a look as though to ask if he had received one too many blows to the head during their fight. _

"_You know I'm not secretly some nice guy who just wants to be understood, right? I've done shit and I've been through shit. I'm not normal," Mariku said but despite his words it sounded more like a tough front than anything else and Bakura just shrugged it off again. _

"_Then go talk to a guidance councillor, it's not my problem. I just want someone I can rely on to watch my back since I'm constantly watching out for Ryou." Bakura locked eyes with Mariku and something unsaid passed between them when Mariku nodded slowly in agreement. _

_It seemed crazy, standing there with someone he just brawled with for half an hour, both struggling just to stand now but Bakura sensed behind the 'craziness' there was something else to Mariku. He was thirteen but he'd been places other kids their age hadn't. _

_He needed help but he wasn't irretrievable and when he talked about his brother there was real pride in his voice. _

"_Partners?" Mariku asked uncertainly, facing Bakura with a cautious expression on his face. In response Bakura reached out and slugged his shoulder, making both of them wince painfully, then grinned slightly. _

"_Sure, partners."_

_..._

"_I have no idea how she got her license, she doesn't know anything," Mariku complained with a scowl, "Keeps telling me I'm 'unstable' because I'm secretly mourning over the loss of parents. Fuck that, I never even knew ka-san and I danced on my otou-san's grave when he died." _

_Bakura scoffed at the idea of Mariku actually dancing on his tou-san's grave but knew it was a hundred percent possible he was telling the truth. Mariku was just that sort of 'crazy' though assessments from the therapist only showed anger and depression on a clinical level. _

"_Why don't you just tell her you hate your otou-san?" He asked with a roll of his eyes as Mariku shook his head firmly. _

"_Then she'd want to know all about him and it's none of her business. I swear, she thinks everything from my favourite color to what I ate for lunch matters. Therapists are so stupid," He insisted and Bakura couldn't help laughing as he launched into another impression of the 'stupid' therapist in question. _

_Despite all his griping he had been seeing her for over a month now and his anger had gotten significantly less obtrusive. Their joking was interrupted by feet on the stairs and Mariku looked over curiously to see Ryou frozen, one hand on banister with his lips parted in shock. _

_Those fawn eyes were so wide they looked like they might swallow his whole face. Mariku looked equally stunned to see him, though his face was soft whereas Ryou's quickly pinched with fear._

"_Ne, Ryou, you should hear him talk about therapy, it's actually kind of entertaining," Bakura encouraged, waving him down but Ryou simply shut his mouth, shaking his head quickly before retreating back up the stairs in a flash. _

_Mariku sighed, grumbling under his breath with annoyance though his fingers slid rapidly around the bracelet he wore that was supposed to remind him about his 'promise' that he wasn't going to go ape shit on people just because they annoyed him. _

_Or that was how he explained it anyways. _

_Bakura watched him but mostly with curiosity. He couldn't help wondering why Mariku let Ryou get to him that way; it wasn't like they even talked anymore so Mariku didn't have reason to be annoyed. _

_When he asked though Mariku's answer was always the same: I don't know._

_..._

"_Who're you checking out?" Bakura asked bluntly and Mariku snapped back to attention, wiping the lovesick expression off his face quickly._

"_No one," He said guiltily and Bakura just scoffed. Mariku's fingers automatically went to his wrist even though the bracelet wasn't there anymore; the habit had been pounded into his head so many times that he couldn't seem to get rid of it now. _

_Though he'd lost the dangerous edge of his anger and stopped falling into his weirdly blank depressive spells, he'd also lost his uncanny ability to lie his way out of anything. Now only someone who didn't know him would buy it when he tried to bluff. _

"_Is it...Takashi-sensei?" Bakura asked and Mariku immediately wrinkled his face in disgust. _

"_I swear, she makes excuses to walk into the guys change room after class. Do you know how disturbing that is? It's too bad you're not in that class 'Kura or we could make her regret it," He said bitterly and Bakura made a noise of approval._

_Besides it was always entertaining to hear Mariku talk about his various female nemeses. Unlike most guys who would drool over how hot Takashi-sensei was; Mariku was disgusted by her and his disgust at any implications at some sort of sexual relationship with her was even more entertaining._

"_Chop her precious hair off if she even thinks about flirting with Ryou, alright?" Bakura requested lazily, mostly in a joking way since he knew Mariku and Ryou still avoided each other like the plague anyways. Well, it was more Ryou avoiding Mariku but whatever. _

"_You don't need to tell me that," Mariku huffed, again getting that strange look on his face as he stared across the room at...whoever it was he was clearly interested in. Twisting around Bakura scanned the room, but saw mostly girls sitting in the direction Mariku had looked in, which was strange since Mariku had a strong dislike for most females._

_Not to mention he was open about the fact that he played the masculine field exclusively._

_Wait a minute...that wasn't a girl over by the garbage can. Someone with long hair certainly but Bakura had looked in the mirror enough times in his life to recognize that long ivory hair and marble white skin. Ryou was bending down, grabbing something that had fallen and placing it neatly in the garbage can, completely oblivious to the eyes on him._

"_Were you just checking out my brother?" He asked, raising an eyebrow suspiciously as he turned around and Mariku wisely kept his mouth shut, color rising in his cheeks. The reaction caused Bakura's eyebrow to racket up even higher, leaning forward across the table a little. _

"_Were you?" He demanded threateningly and Mariku glanced up at him, eyes straying in the direction Ryou was sitting in and then moving back to him nervously. _

"_Maybe a little," He mumbled and Bakura sat back with a small shrug. _

"_Ok," He said simply and Mariku frowned, confused by the reaction. _

"_You don't care?" He asked hopefully and Bakura laughed, a chilling noise accompanied by a smirk that said he knew where Mariku was going with this. _

"_It doesn't matter to me if you're gay for my brother. It's not like you'll get anywhere with him anyways," He said and Mariku scowled, pouting slightly. _

"_Maybe I will, don't count me out yet," He said stubbornly and Bakura just laughed cruelly again, knowing how impossible that was. Ryou always kept a careful thirty foot radius between him and Mariku at all times. _

_The likelihood of them hooking up was slim to none._

**End Flashback**

"I can't believe it actually happened," He mumbled to himself shaking his head slightly as he turned back to Malik's figure that was waiting huffily by the cafeteria counter. Really the expression was more of a jealous pout than anything else like an attention deprived child.

"Done daydreaming?" He grumbled when Bakura stopped beside him and Bakura raised an eyebrow at his snarky attitude.

"Is someone jealous that my attention isn't on them?" He asked in a babying voice and Malik's glare intensified but he chose not to respond, looking away irritably, mostly because he couldn't deny the truth but didn't want to give Bakura the smug satisfaction of admitting that he didn't like being ignored when he was upset.

Especially not by Bakura himself.

Ryou appeared, saving Malik the embarrassment as he stepped up to the counter, releasing Mariku's hand casually as he did so. This didn't sit too well with Mariku, especially now that he was face to face with Malik again.

"Don't say it," Malik warned, narrowing his eyes but that only served to encourage Mariku's cruel grin as he asked, "Why so pissy this morning, brat? Is it your time of the month?"

Ryou sighed hopelessly from the counter, palming his face with disbelief at Mariku's immaturity. Then again Mariku had always really disliked girls in just about every sense. Obviously Ryou wasn't the only one to know this as Malik wound up for another tantrum, ego cut by Mariku's last comment and Bakura's earlier snipe and overall just sick of being pushed around on such a crappy morning.

"No I am _not _PMSing, I'm 'pissy' because I woke up late, I didn't get breakfast, you _stole_ my baby and after freezing down to my bones in the rain I find her scratched and _none of you even care!_" He snapped but before Mariku could respond he was cut off by Bakura's lazy voice asking impatiently, "What do you want?"

Malik blinked, obviously thrown off guard as he looked at Bakura uncertainly.

"Eh?" He asked with confusion as Bakura rolled his eyes, leaning forward so his elbows were on the cafeteria counter.

"Chocolate chip muffin," He said the lady who smiled, winking at both of them which had Malik looking confused again. She handed Bakura the muffin and his coffee and he promptly turned around, shoving the food into Malik's hands so he had to take it however uncertain he was.

Bakura found the puzzled look on his face kind of cute and wondered vaguely if he was going soft but then brushed off the thought, not having a better way of telling Malik he maybe cared just a little bit that he was having a rough morning.

"Eat it and stop bitching about breakfast," He said bluntly. Malik looked at him then down at the muffin again before a flattered smile softened his surprised expression. Lifting it to his face he smelt the rich scent of chocolate and felt his mouth water, taking a bite out of it immediately so that he could feel it melting in his mouth deliciously.

Mariku gave a low laugh at the sight of his brother practically cuddling his gift muffin and Ryou elbowed him gently with a frown that said 'don't be rude'. Mariku pulled a face at Bakura who glared back to save his pride.

"Shut up, it's not that funny," He said to his friend though even he knew there was something strange about him buying something for someone else. As a prided thief king he rarely liked actually spending money and wasting it on someone else was something very few people had ever had the chance to appreciate.

Malik felt something warm fluttering inside him and tried to squash the feeling but he couldn't. He knew as much as it sometimes seemed like Bakura cared about him, it was dangerous to let himself fall for the fierce Touzoku.

Mariku kept insisting that he didn't do 'relationships' and he'd seen for himself that he'd made out with Mariku like it was nothing.

_Then again,_ he thought smugly, _you don't see him buying _him_ any muffins, do you?_

**A/N: Wow, that was crazy long but I really wanted to write about Mariku and Bakura's initial meeting. Those two are just that crazy that I can see that happening...but maybe I'm crazy to and none of it made sense. Let me know what you think, all reviews are cherished!**


	11. Innuendoes

**A/N: Alright, really short chapter just to introduce the next plot arc-ish...thing. Yah I'm such an articulate writer...anyways, I figured Yu-Gi-Oh wiki has everyone else's birthdays listed but the yami's of course never get one and since this is an AU, Mariku definitely needed one! Coming up with ideas for it was a ton of fun (why can I plan a psychos birthday but not my own sweet sixteen? Why, why, why?) and I can't wait to write it, hope people like this (unfortunately short) intro!**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

"Morning Sato-sensei!" A loud voice called and the teacher looked up from the marking she was doing with a confused expression on her face.

"Good morning Ishtar-san," She replied slowly but Mariku blew right by her, practically bouncing as he crossed the room in three bounds, grinding to a halt in front of Malik and Bakura, the latter who was sitting in his chair with his palm on the other's abdominals rather suggestively as Bakura leaned back smugly under the touch.

"Someone had too much sugar this morning, unless your back on the drugs again Mariku," Bakura sniped as Malik quickly pulled his hand away from its rather odd position. Mariku gave them funny looks as he took in their proximity, though Malik backed off quickly.

"What are you two doing?" He asked, even his voice sounding hyper while he ignored the reference to his Prozac days.

"He didn't believe me that I had a six pack," Bakura said smugly as Malik rolled his eyes, crossing his arms with a huff.

"It's not my fault you look like a stick; how was I supposed to know you actually had muscles?" He sulked though his eyes were now appraising Bakura speculatively.

"I would take my shirt off for you but I think it might make Sato-sensei jealous. It'll have to wait till we're in private," Bakura jibed back and Malik flushed, quickly returning his eyes to his face.

"I will never sink to asking you to take your shirt off for me," He snapped, nurturing his commonly targeted pride.

"Sure you won't," Mariku threw in though the comment held little significance since he was still fairly bouncing on the spot like a hyper child.

"Is there a reason you're in such a good mood, Mariku?" Ryou asked shyly, ignoring the daily banter about Malik's questionable sexuality.

"Friday Night Lights, it's on between us and Shibuya tonight and we're definitely going to win with me on defence!" He crowed delightedly. "Which means _you_ all better be there cheering me on," He added, piercing all three of them with a look that had Malik and Bakura groaning in unison.

Anyone who knew Mariku had been privy to at least one of his yearly Friday Night Lights games that seemed to go on _forever_, rich with competition and obnoxiously competitive fans.

Thinking back Bakura recalled seeing Malik there the year before but he hadn't thought much of it at the time only vaguely realizing that Mariku's younger brother actually attended their school.

"Don't worry Mariku; I'll make sure they're both there with me," Ryou chirped happily and Bakura sent him a glare at the presumptuous words though he knew it was useless to resist. Mariku would sulk for days if he didn't come to the game and he figured he could sacrifice a couple hours of his life to avoid that.

Plus Malik would be there, which was always a plus.

Maybe if it got cold enough he'd even have a good excuse to cuddle with him...

The thought had him shaking his head hard, trying to knock the image from his head. God, what was wrong with his brain? It had been over a month since he met Malik but that wasn't an excuse to be thinking about cuddling.

Touzoku Bakura did not cuddle, _ever_ with _anyone._ It was a perversion of nature itself to even think about it. Luckily for him none of the others noticed his appalling thoughts because Mariku was fairly glowing with Ryou's promise to be at the game, clasping his hands together happily like a small child.

"You're being so nice to me today Ryou-chan," He gloated, the hearts nearly pouring out of him. It was almost sickening to watch and Malik looked like he was going to puke over the 'chan' ending which Bakura knew for a fact that he had a strong aversion against. Even Ryou sweat dropped, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

"Um, well, it is your birthday today, it's the least I could do," Ryou said sweetly and Malik swore explicitly, nearly falling out of his chair.

"You forgot, didn't you?" Mariku accused, pointing at Malik who gripped the edge of his desk, bringing his chair back onto all four legs to keep from tipping backwards.

"No..." He said guiltily but it was utterly unconvincing. He might as well just own up and admit he completely forgot about his brother's birthday.

"Am I coming over tonight?" Bakura asked casually, folding his arms behind his head and Malik's eyes widened at his words. "To celebrate of course," He added in a suggestively silken voice while Malik glared, pouting slightly at the purposefully twisted words.

Mariku seemed oblivious to their exchange, grinning wickedly at Bakura.

"I already told my hosts to leave the house to me tonight, so we can do whatever we want without them around," He said enthusiastically and Ryou palmed his face, hearing the double meaning to the words just as clearly as the others had.

"I hope you come to, Ryou-chan," Mariku said innocently and Ryou turned red as Bakura cracked up and Malik couldn't quite repress his smirk either.

"Threesome anyone?" He muttered, succeeding in making Bakura bite his lip to suppress the sound of his laughter though his shoulders were quivering slightly.

He completely lost it though when Mariku paused for a moment then said, "I suppose you can come to brat. At least it'll make 'Kura more enthusiastic." Malik's face was a mask of horror at the words and Mariku finally seemed to notice, cocking his head slightly in confusion as Bakura let out long peels of dark laughter that had several people looking their way.

"Good to know you want to sleep with me so badly," Malik huffed, shoving Bakura lightly who just got that familiar glint in his eyes as he leaned closer.

"What are you two going on about now?" Mariku asked, interrupting their little 'moment' and Bakura laughed again quietly, shaking his head as he moved out of Malik's personal space.

"Don't worry about it," He said flippantly, smirking slightly but not sharing the joke with Mariku who would likely turn it into more. Malik's expression at the idea of a foursome with his brother was gift enough.

"I'm sure all three of us will be there tonight Mariku, and we'll treat you well on your birthday. Right Bakura, Malik?" Ryou said lightly but there was an unusually dangerous glint to his milk chocolate eyes when he stared at the other two.

Bakura hesitated, grumbling slightly to himself but agreed when Ryou pressed the matter and Malik swallowed nervously then agreed. There was something wrong with the world when Ryou was pushing Bakura around.

"Good, now that that's agreed it shouldn't be a problem to meet up at your house after the game," Ryou said cheerfully as though he hadn't just been looming threateningly over the other two to make them agree and Malik wondered for a moment what he would have done if they'd refused to be 'nice' to Mariku.

Sing a song? No, he probably had some form of blackmail over Bakura's head and as a last resort he could always break down in tears and blame it on them. Any teacher would buy that pathetic Bambi eyed look he'd perfected.

"Great," Mariku beamed, grabbing Ryou in a close hug. Ryou's eyes widened, giving a squeak of terror when Mariku squeezed him tightly.

"S-sure," He stammered, hugging him back quickly before stumbling out of his embrace and retreating to his desk looking shaky.

"You should stop trying to scare him to death, he's going to have another break down if you keep it up," Malik commented shrewdly, eyeing Ryou cautiously and Mariku just shrugged, sparing a glance in Ryou's direction as well.

"He'll get over it. It hardly even bothers him anymore," Mariku said confidently though Bakura looked a little more sceptical, glancing between them slowly. Malik watched his appraising gaze bounce between them almost mischievously, wondering not for the first time if Bakura was honestly trying to push them together in his own standoffish way.

He wouldn't mind getting in on a scheme like that, it was sort of sad to see the two trying so hard to be 'friends' when they clearly wanted to be more. Not to mention he kind of liked the sound of mischief making with the thief king.

Heat crawled up his neck when he realized what that sounded like even in his own head, an onslaught of images he didn't seem able to stop flooding his mind's eye. No, he did _not_ want to make 'mischief' with Bakura _that_ way! Not even a little bit.

Well...maybe a _little_ bit.

He groaned slightly, banging his head off the desk with a dull thump.

"Go away," He grumbled at the thoughts that wouldn't leave him alone now, spreading the heat to his cheeks with embarrassment at his own thoughts. Bakura gave him a curious look and he quickly avoided his gaze, not wanting to explain his likely obvious blush and completely inappropriate thoughts.

Right, he wasn't even supposed to be gay...

"Did you bring your motorcycle today?" Bakura asked abruptly and Malik sat up a bit, knowing the Thief King could only be talking to him.

"Of course," He said proudly.

"You're giving me a ride back to your place tonight," Bakura told him bluntly and Malik's eyes widened, lips parted slightly as he stared at Bakura. Realizing where Malik's thoughts were headed, Bakura smirked, leaning across the desk to flick his forehead affectionately.

"Stop being so dirty minded," He rebuked though he didn't really mind as Malik flinched backwards, sticking his tongue out at the other equally affectionately if also immaturely.

"That's definitely _not_ what I was thinking about," He denied but it fell on deaf ears as Bakura merely gave Mariku a smug look.

"He's so into me," Bakura gloated and Malik grit his teeth against the heat rising again in his face, telling himself to calm down. Bakura always took advantage of him like this; he couldn't back down so easily!

"Fine," He huffed, "I'll give you a ride back to my house after the game and you can stay however long you want."

"How about all night?" Bakura purred and Malik just shrugged.

"Whatever you want," He responded and then saw the blankly suggestive looks he was getting from all three of them including even Ryou who didn't seem to miss the direction their conversation was taking.

"That's not what I meant," He moaned, voice muffled as he palmed his face but from Mariku's laughter and even a small giggle from Ryou that he wasn't able to repress, he got the feeling he wasn't going to convince anyone that he didn't want to sleep with Bakura.

This was going to be a very long evening...

**A/N: At the beginning I mentioned 'Prozac' and for anyone who doesn't know what that is, it's one of the most common drugs they use to treat patients who suffer from depression. Obviously Mariku isn't depressed anymore; that's why I threw it in as a sort of reminder that he use to be. Oh poor Malik, I simply have too much fun making fun of him through Bakura and Mariku...but that's what it's like being the youngest. I should know!**


	12. Cheerleader

**A/N: This chapter was unbelievably fun to write! I introduced a random character from the show because I thought it would be hilarious to throw him in. I know everyone thinks just about every Yu-Gi-Oh villain seems 'gay' but of them all, which earns the title the most for his attitude? That's right; I think you all know who's coming into this as a guest star for the chapter ;) Also, I decided to upload this today because it's all about Mariku's birthday and today is my birthday to! So happy Elle's birthday everyone, here's a gift chapter for you all :D**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

"Come on, it won't kill you to just wish him luck!" Ryou encouraged enthusiastically, grabbing Malik's hand and dragging him towards the bench where Mariku was sitting, getting ready for the big game.

"I'm sure he'll do fine even without us," Malik grumbled but allowed Ryou to lead him bouncing down the bleachers. Bakura followed hesitantly though he couldn't very well leave Malik to fend for himself in Mariku and Ryou's sickeningly gooey world of love and rainbows.

It just seemed too cruel.

Mariku looked up curiously when Ryou called his name, beaming brilliantly when he saw them –meaning Ryou–approaching the bench. He jumped up to stand on level with them, ignoring Malik's pointed comment about staying with his team and letting them leave already.

"Do your best, okay Mariku?" Ryou said sweetly and Mariku glanced out at the field, pre-game nerves, or in Mariku's case, anticipation, flashing across his face.

"We'll definitely win," He promised. When his eyes returned to the field Ryou's eagerly dropped to take in one of the best sights in the world –Mariku in his football uniform.

Malik elbowed Bakura and when he got an annoyed look for his efforts he pointed out the way Ryou was blatantly checking the football star out, not even attempting to hide his wandering gaze.

"Enjoying the view?" Bakura asked dryly, shattering Ryou's bold moment.

"U-um...I guess so," Ryou stammered, turning red as Mariku looked back their way with a frown, probably wondering what they were talking about.

"What view?" He asked suspiciously, and Bakura smirked at the jealously protective tone in his voice. Couldn't have that now, could he?

"I think Ryou likes guys that wear tight pants," Malik teased in his own turn.

"What like everyone on the football team?" Bakura asked in mock shock, slapping a hand to his cheek to exaggerate the words.

"It's usually girls checking out the guys though, not other guys. Although don't worry Ryou, I'm sure Mariku won't let anyone pick on you just because you play the other field, even if he is jealous of you eyeing up all the other guys," Malik assured him as un-reassuringly as possible.

"I wasn't!" Ryou squeaked in disbelief, lips parting as he glanced between the three of them, knowing he was completely cornered. "I was just...you know...and h-he just looks good, alright? It's not a big deal!" He finally exclaimed, ducking his head so that his fluffy white bangs could fall in his face like a shield.

"He _who_?" Mariku demanded gruffly, fed up with the beating around the bush. "It's not like we didn't all already know you were gay anyways," He added offhandedly and Ryou looked like a deer caught in the headlights, wide eyes glazed with paralyzing fear.

Or was that embarrassment? It was always hard to tell with Ryou.

"Ryou? Hello? If you're going to stare at other guys at least tell me who so I can kick his ass," Mariku huffed, scowling as he waved a hand in front of Ryou's blank gaze. A strange look crossed Ryou's face at his words, finally snapping him out of his daze.

"That would be difficult to do," He said shyly and Mariku merely blinked obliviously, not understanding the implications of the sweet whitette's words.

"He was talking about you dumbass," Malik pointed out bluntly and Mariku scowled at his words.

"I knew –wait _what?_" The true meaning of his crushes words sunk in at last and his scowl melted away into a slightly giddy smile, turning to face Ryou again quickly. "You were staring at _me?_" He demanded, pointing to himself with a huge grin sprawled across his face and Ryou groaned, burying his face in his hands embarrassedly.

Have you ever tried confessing to someone of the same gender whom you were mortally terrified of while also majorly crushing on that they were really hot in their football uniform? Awkward. Very awkward.

"Come on Ryou," Mariku tried for a no nonsense tone, folding his arms across his toned chest, "Just tell me, if it wasn't me I'm not going to be pissed off."

"Bullshit," Both Malik and Bakura said at the same time. Bakura chuckled darkly, sliding his gaze to the side as Malik looked seriously freaked out.

"Great minds think alike," He said flirtatiously, just to make Malik even more uncomfortable.

"And fools never differ," Mariku finished dismissively, "Now shut the fuck up. Ryou? It _is_ my birthday..." Ryou swallowed slightly as he slowly lowered his hands, realizing that the 'birthday' card kind of shot any excuse he had to pieces.

After all he wasn't going to lie to Mariku on his _birthday._

"I...um...you look...err...good?" He managed meekly; trying in his own roundabout way to confess that he had been checking him out rather eagerly and obviously.

Thankfully the awkward confession was interrupted by the troop of cheerleaders exiting the field. One of the few males on the squad jogged over to the bench, grinning over at Mariku hugely.

"Fan club much?" Bakura asked as Mariku suddenly looked particularly unhappy despite Ryou's recent confession.

"No," He snarled in response, giving the boy in his red and white cheerleader uniform a nasty look.

"No need to be so _vehement _I haven't even _done_ anything yet 'Riku," The guy's words seemed purposefully slurred to give him a strange overdone accent as well as punctuating his words strangely. His silver hair fell to his shoulders in a metallic curtain, his very facial features overly dramatic.

"'Riku?" Ryou said in a slightly baffled and maybe just the tiniest bit of a jealous tone.

"Would you stop calling me that?" Mariku snapped and the boy simply laughed, flipping his hair.

"Why, it sounds so _charming!_ Anyways, I wasn't here to flirt with _you_ so you're tough out of luck, big guy. Though I must say you look absolutely _yummy_ in that uniform..." He paused to lick his lips, tracing his eyes over Mariku greedily and without shame.

Bakura watched interested as Ryou's expression hardened just a little, gaze flickering between the two of them jealously. Mariku's hand twitched dangerously, dying to clamp it around the willowy silver haired boy's neck.

"But alas, I had a question for one of your _companions_," He finally said, breaking away from his staring contest with Mariku's chest.

"Well you can ask me," Mariku growled, leaning slightly to shield Ryou from the cheerleader's provocative eyes that were headed in his direction. Ryou, to his eternal shame, was happy to stay behind Mariku, intimidated by the spontaneous overdramatic attitude of...whoever this guy was.

In a strange way it was like Mariku's only a million times more flowery and strange in Ryou's biased opinion.

"_Fine,_ I just wanted to know if that _fabulous_ piece of ass you seem so bent on protecting is taken yet?" He asked aloofly, flipping his hand as a flirtatious smile curled his lips obnoxiously.

"Not a chance in hell, Pegasus. Stay away from him," Mariku hissed dangerously, mauve eyes glaring like he wished his could light the other boy's hair on fire.

"So he's not taken?" 'Pegasus' inferred with a raised eyebrow. Malik stared disbelievingly at the fact that anyone could possibly be _that_ stupid to openly mock Mariku over Ryou of all things.

"I am," A voice blurted suddenly, breaking the heated exchange.

"Excuse me?"

"_What?_" Both of the competing males said at the same time though Mariku was looking on the edge of a psychotic break down at this point. Ryou edged out from behind him nervously, taking calming if shaky breathes.

"I'm...taken. You know, on a date," Ryou explained awkwardly to their confused and outraged expressions. Silence stretched between the three as Pegasus looked blankly between the two, trying to figure out what was going on and Mariku's temper ticked away like a time bomb while Ryou simply tried to settle his nerves, knowing full well what was coming.

"What the _fuck?_" Mariku finally demanded, exploding furiously, though he managed not to deck someone in frustration.

"Well you're the one who asked me to come...and it's _your_ birthday," Ryou pointed out in a firmer voice though he sounded a little uncertain. Bakura stared at his brother, trying to decide whether Ryou had thought it was a date all along or simply decided now that it was.

Probably a spur of the moment decision. Huh, he must really like Mariku then. Weird...

"Oh," Mariku simply said, processing the information for several seconds before grinning slightly. "Well in that case, he's taken now," He said smugly to Pegasus, winding an arm around Ryou's waist who stiffened nervously but valiantly battled the reflex.

Pegasus narrowed his eyes suspiciously but pouted his lips, admitting defeat on a small scale.

"You always get all the _cute_ boys 'Riku, it's just not _fair,_" He whined and Mariku just grinned a little sadistically.

"You're damn right I do. Now leave," He ordered bluntly, receiving another evil glare before Pegasus flipped his magnificent hair again and marched off after his long gone squad.

There was silence between the four of them as Ryou stood there, glassy eyed again. Mariku chuckled, evidently in a very good mood though he respectfully removed his arm from around Ryou's waist.

"Relax Ryou-chan, I'm not going to jump you though it's nice to know you finally agreed to go on a date with me off your own free will," He teased in a low voice, and Ryou flushed, ducking his head slightly.

"Well it is your birthday," He mumbled, staring determinedly at the ground causing a small frown to flicker across Mariku's face.

"Captain!" One of his teammates called and Mariku looked over, seeing them getting ready to enter the field.

"Captain?" Ryou asked suddenly, surprised by the title. If he was honest he knew nothing about football but captain sounded fairly official. Mariku nodded with a shrug as though it was no big deal to him, and it probably wasn't.

He was a jock and he fit in with that crowd but they weren't his favourite people. He preferred the 'queer' kids, much to his teammates' dismay.

"Pretty hot, ne?" Bakura teased and Ryou flushed with a scowl at the reference to his earlier blatant display of crushing on the 'captain'.

"Oh be quiet, it's not my fault he's good looking," Ryou snapped although it was more of a huff then anything seriously irritable. Mariku grinned and Ryou looked ready to shoot himself for saying anything at all.

Instead of further embarrassing Ryou though he simply stepped closer, scooping him up in a bone crushing hug and before Ryou could even raise his arms to hug back the spontaneous blond had leaned down to press a hard wet kiss to his cheek and then bounded off to the field enthusiastically.

Ryou's eyes fluttered slightly and his knees turned to jelly, buckling underneath him like a teenage girl. Seeing him stumble over his own feet, Malik grabbed his elbow, holding him up awkwardly. Bakura couldn't help but laugh mockingly over the nervous expression on the younger Ishtar's face as Ryou sagged against him, looking dazed.

Malik shot him a pleading look, bringing another chuckle from his lips but he decided to help out, leaning over to flick Ryou's forehead sharply. Those fawn eyes blinked, startled, immediately pulling away from Malik.

"A-ah...sorry," He apologized to Malik who just nodded watching him warily as though he might collapse on him again. Ryou felt some embarrassment but he was used to getting funny looks for his strange behaviour or one of his companion's.

Compared to Bakura and Mariku he was practically normal after all.

His crush on Mariku was beginning to rival his fear of him in a way it never had before. It made him nervous yet at the same time...it felt free. He could crush on Mariku without being quite so cripplingly afraid.

The fear came and went but each time it was that much easier to accept his feelings for his crazy love interest.

A cheer went up from the crowd giving Ryou the opportunity to escape, dragging both his companions back to their spot in the bleachers. When they lined up for the first down the crowd exploded again and Ryou let out his own enthusiastic cheer, face literally beaming. Bakura jumped up and down on the bleacher, giving a mock scream of excitement that Ryou completely ignored.

"Oh Mariku, you make me faint when you get all sweaty from tossing a ball around," Malik added loudly, fanning his face desperately. Bakura laughed cruelly from by behind Malik as Ryou glared at him, hands planted on his hips.

"I wasn't that stupid!" He complained and Malik snickered about to correct that actually he was when Bakura grabbed him from behind, pressing his chest against Malik's back. His hands came up and started stroking the smaller boy's chest seductively from behind.

"No Ryou, the fact that the only time you can talk to me is when I'm wearing pants tighter than your skin doesn't bother me at all. I'll love you forever like the hopeless lovesick idiot I am even if I can't kiss you without you passing out," Bakura deepened his voice, adding a 'Mariku' to Malik's previous 'Ryou' impersonation, feeling up his crush in the progress.

"Stop being so immature," Ryou whined with a pout, turning back to the game with a slight huff that was quickly forgotten as his eyes quickly darted around, landing on Mariku once again. Bakura had been able to feel the rigidity of Malik's spine from the second he pressed up against him but with each stroke of his hands he could feel his muscles tightening more.

He wished he could see his face to know if it was annoying discomfort or scoff worthy nerves. With a dramatic sigh he dropped his hands to the other boy's waist, sliding around to his side so that he could see the expression on his face when he said, "You know, you're really bad with this stuff."

Malik actually looked like he was going to agree, expression nothing short of insecure but suddenly it hardened and he blinked the look away, covering it skilfully with a scowl.

"Stop it," He snapped, pulling away from Bakura as the pale boys hands played innocently at his waist with the hem of his shirt. Bakura was forced to pull his hands away from that slender waist when Malik edged out of comfortable reach, causing a frown to form on his face. He'd been enjoying himself.

"There's nothing even sexual about touching someone's side, you'd suck at 'are you nervous', kid," Bakura said and Malik didn't respond, not wanting to be subject to more teasing. Then again...Bakura had called him 'kid' which he only did to get on his nerves or because he was ticked off about something.

Obviously he'd just been teasing him.

As the game wore on though, Malik started to doubt the 'obviousness' of that as Bakura merely sat there like a rock, arms folded. When Malik risked a glance at his face it was completely blank, giving away nothing and startlingly lacking in his usual smirk.

The more he stared out of the corner of his eye the more he was certain that the Thief King was actually pissed about...what? That he wouldn't let him touch him? The thought was actually a little flattering as Malik considered that Bakura might have actually really wanted to 'touch' him even 'non-sexually'.

Heat crawled up his neck with a pleasurable shiver as he remembered the feeling of those ghostly white hands tracing the contours of his chest. Even through his sweater it had felt sinfully good and the fact that Bakura was legitimately put out about stopping was just the cream on top.

"Malik...Malik?" Malik blinked, startling out of his daydream.

"B –Ryou! What?" He asked quickly, realizing he was talking to the nicer twin who was looking at him with slight concern.

"You didn't hear the half time buzzer? Well, we've got five minutes and I'm kind of hungry, plus the book club that Miho-chan is in is selling popcorn. I promised her I'd get some," Ryou explained cheerfully and Malik was surprised to hear a girl mentioned for once.

Around these guys it always seemed to be, well, guys. Curious he stood up, grateful to stretch his limbs at least.

"I'm hungry to so I'll come with you," He said and Ryou smiled at him before turning to Bakura.

"Do you want some" –

"No. I'm not hungry and even if I was I wouldn't support some bullshit club," Bakura said coldly, stare listless and still blank as it drilled into Ryou who sighed slightly. Gesturing to Malik, he lead him away from Bakura before his brother could say or do something he'd regret later.

He always got like this when he was in a bad mood over something and Ryou wouldn't be surprised if it had to do with his pretty blond companion. Speaking of whom, had obviously also noticed Bakura's apparent moodiness.

"It's not fair," He was complaining, glaring over his shoulder at the other white haired boy who was staring out at the field, arms still crossed tightly, "He gets all pissy and I didn't even _do_ anything."

"You mean you really haven't noticed?" Ryou asked aloud in wonder, giving Malik a strange look.

"Noticed what?" Malik asked, feeling his heart speed up a little. Part of him wanted Ryou to be going in 'that' direction. Part of him dreaded it.

"Bakura has never been a fan of rejection," Ryou let out a small conspicuous laugh that was more of a giggle than anything else, "But especially not from you. He likes you."

"Don't even joke about that Ryou, I'm nothing special to him," Malik said a little sourly, remembering once again that make out Bakura and Mariku shared even if it was several weeks in the past. He hated to admit it but every time the scene flashed through his mind, which was annoyingly often, it was accompanied by a wave of hot jealousy.

"Oh I wouldn't joke about that," Ryou said, giving him a surprised look, "Just ask Mariku, he's been expecting you guys to get together for a long time now. It's just taking longer because 'Kura's never had a crush before." Ryou let out another effeminate laugh at his brother's evident 'weakness'.

Malik's heart stuttered, longing to believe that the Thief King really did like him and afraid to at the same time. Not that he'd ever admit that, which meant it was time to change the subject to something less embarrassing –for him at least.

"Speaking of Mariku, you guys seem to be...hanging out a lot lately," Malik said suggestively, raising an eyebrow at Ryou who sighed happily like a lovesick puppy.

"Yah, things have been better lately," Ryou confessed, looking at Malik shyly. They shared a glance, both remembering the way Ryou had accidentally admitted to liking Mariku on that first day they met.

_Even though it's obvious, it clearly matters to him,_ Malik thought silently, choosing not to point this out. Ryou wasn't stupid, he probably knew how obvious his affection was towards Mariku but they _had_ been hanging out more lately and for some reason things did seem easier between them.

Malik wondered what changed while Ryou remembered the event perfectly with another dreamy sigh.

**A/N: Yes, that's right, next chapter will be one long flashback! But major Deathshipping for fans of that pairing ;) Ah, Pegasus, after watching YGO:TAS I simply had to put him in, nobody shoot me! **


	13. Musical Therapy

**A/N: Alright, this is one freaking long flashback that I crammed all into one chapter. This whole thing was entirely inspired by my Regional Arts music class where my insane music teacher actually spent an hour and twenty minutes talking about different muscles a musician builds up. Le gasp, musicians have muscles? Damn right we do ;)**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

**Flashback**

_Ryou glanced at the door and sure enough, he was still there. He'd been trying to convince himself for the last five minutes that he was seeing things but Mariku was distinctively standing there just inside the doorway, watching him. _

_There was no mistaking that wild blond hair and tall, tan, muscled body but even more so that familiar dark gaze just...watching him. Staring and watching him hungrily, curiously, contemplatively, Ryou could never entirely tell anymore but his watcher was there and he wasn't leaving. _

"_Touzoku-chan? Is this right?" The younger girl asked with concern as she held her bow to the violin strings. Ryou shook his head, trying to drive thoughts of Mariku away...which lasted for a whole of ten seconds since his crush was evidently bored of waiting for the lesson to end. _

"_He just told you to relax your wrist a minute ago, why the hell would you think twisting it up like that is right?" Mariku asked in a gruff tone. The girl made a small sound of alarm, noticing him for the first time and Ryou sighed helplessly. _

"_I'm sorry Kana-chan; can we finish this lesson tomorrow?" He asked apologetically and the girl nodded, avoiding Mariku's gaze as she smiled back forcefully at him. _

"_Of course Touzoku-chan" –_

"_Would you stop calling him that?" Mariku snapped and she scowled at him for a moment. The expression on his face quickly had her backing down, fear flashing across her pretty features. _

"_S-sorry," She mumbled, bowing slightly, then began to hurriedly pack up her stuff. Mariku smirked smugly, approving of her reaction as he dropped down on the piano bench so that he could watch her casually, making sure she left without saying another word to 'Touzoku-chan'. _

_Ryou's tongue burned with a million apologies, wanting to smooth things over with Kana-chan who was a mere first year that he had promised to help but sadly he was just as scared of Mariku right now as she was. _

_Neither of them seemed to be in the position to tell Mariku what he could or could not demand anyways. _

"_G-goodbye s-s-senpai," She stammered terribly before scurrying out the door as quickly as she could. Ryou wanted to turn and yell at Mariku, he really did, but it felt like the words were stuck in his throat and his tongue weighed a million pounds. _

_Only his eyes managed to slide a fraction of an inch over to look at Mariku miserably, recognizing the cloistered feeling all too well. How many times had he wanted to yell, scream or hurt Mariku only to be absolutely unable to? _

_Whenever he was actually in the situation he was completely helpless. Little did he know, those sad fawn eyes were more than enough to eat away at Mariku's conscience, no matter how in the right he felt. _

"_Don't look at me like that," He huffed, folding his arms like a stubborn child. Spasms of fear travelled through Ryou's body, sending his stomach roiling. Don't look at me like that...he'd heard those words before. Lots of times in fact. _

_Mariku always used to demand that he not look at him with such unhappy eyes. _

"_I'm sorry Ishtar-sama," The mumbled words were out of his mouth reflexively before he could think not to say them. _

"_Don't call me that!" Mariku ordered in frustration and Ryou winced, averting his gaze to the ground humbly. _

"_Sorry," He said but it was still no more than a meek mumble. _

"_Fuck, alright, you can call me whatever you want just...stop doing that!" Mariku's slightly shaken words were still frustrated and demanding but the concern in them was enough for Ryou to raise his eyes hopefully._

"_Stop doing what?" He asked aloud then clamped his mouth shut, biting his tongue in process painfully though he said nothing. _

"_That! That thing where you act like if you do something I don't like I'm going, I don't know, hurt you or something," Mariku said, struggling to soften his tone and failing badly. _

_He didn't know much about coddling and he was used to demanding even if it meant he got turned down. Asking nicely wasn't one of his talents. _

_Sighing irritably he jumped up from his spot, walking over to where Ryou stood, looking at him wide eyed before quickly backing away. Growling deep in his throat, Mariku grabbed the pale boy by his upper arms, jerking him closer. _

_Ryou gasped once before mashing his lips together in a trembling line, eyes glazed over in that deer-in-the-headlights look. _

"_Ryou if I scare you, just say so damn it. When I do something you don't like it's okay to say no," Mariku explained in quite the demanding voice for someone trying to be 'understanding'. Then again he'd never been good at that either. _

"_I c-can't," Ryou stammered, barely breathing as he stood frozen in the partial embrace. _

"_Yes you can. The only thing you do anymore that gets on my nerves is when you don't stand up for yourself. I keep thinking someone's going to jump you one day you're just going to hand over your wallet, your ID and your virginity without throwing a single punch." Ryou blinked at the blunt words, and Mariku felt a small piece of relief that something he'd said got through that field of paralysis. _

"_My...what...no I wouldn't!" Ryou cried, and Mariku frowned a little, confused once again. _

"_Well when I grab you, you don't do anything other than look like you're going to shit yourself. How do I know some other guy won't come along and you'll do the same thing?" Ryou flushed, lowering his eyes shyly. _

"_I-I don't know...I just wouldn't. It's different when it's you," He protested weakly, struggling to lift a hand to tug on one of his long white tresses but Mariku beat him to it, releasing one of his arms in favour of running his hand through soft snow coloured locks. _

_The other hand slowly slipped down to hold Ryou's waist tenderly, pulling him a little closer. Ryou's breath hitched noticeably, coaxing a deep chuckle from Mariku. _

"_Tell me Ryou, if I tried to...take advantage of you, what would you do?" Ryou's eyes widened again and Mariku felt a tremor go through his body._

"_I-I don't know," Ryou admitted, sucking in breath to try and calm himself down. _Mariku wouldn't_, he told himself firmly. _That was in the past, I need to get over it. He wouldn't. He likes me, he cares about me...he wouldn't.

"_Would you hit me, would you at least shout for help?" Mariku asked, looking down at him with concern wrinkling his forehead. Sometimes, he wondered about Ryou's sanity. Sometimes, he wondered if he'd somehow caused his instability. _

_It wasn't that Ryou was retarded or even unreliable; it was just these crippling fears from the past. So he'd told him some scary stories, bullied him a bit, but why did he take them so seriously? _

"_I don't know if I could..." Ryou said slowly, eyelids fluttering open and shut as he stared up at Mariku. "I don't know if...if I'd even want to..." The words spoken in Ryou's soft sweet voice were so dream like that Mariku was certain he'd imagined them. _

_What he could imagine was the way Ryou suddenly stiffened, palming his face with a small moan. _

"_I shouldn't have said that," He said quickly, struggling to back away from Mariku whose hands curled tighter, stepping closer desperately. _

"_No, please, say that again," Mariku begged and Ryou shook his head quickly, conflicting emotions clashing across his face. _

"_I-I can't, I shouldn't raise your hopes, I-I shouldn't have even said anything" –Ryou tried to say, jumbling his words together as he stammered all over the place. Mariku wasn't taking any of that though, rather than stepping closer this time he opted to purposefully place Ryou at a disadvantage by jerking him closer. _

_The small cry he let out tore at his heart but Mariku was determined, sick of this game where Ryou let him dangle, drawing him in and then cutting him loose only to catch him all over again. He needed to know, to really know, what the whitette was thinking for once._

_Now Ryou was silent, protests dying on his lips as he found himself face to face with his crush whose head was tilted down towards him, bodies held forcefully together in an embrace a million times more intimate than any hug they'd ever shared. _

"_Ryou," Mariku murmured his name and it sent thrilling shivers all through his body. Those deep mauve eyes traced his beautiful pale face, flushed with the adrenaline his body was pumping through every vein in his body, flickering between his full pink lips that looked so soft and his melting brown eyes. _

"_You know I won't take advantage of you?" He questioned in a slightly husky voice that purred beautifully as the words sunk into Ryou's sensitive musician ears. _

_How sick was it that he felt a flicker of disappointment accompany them? _

_He managed a nod though, still dazzled by the closeness of that gorgeous tan face. _

"_No doubt you know how much I want to though," Mariku continued, dimming his eyes at his beautiful prize, hearing the way his breath caught again, chest rising and falling so rapidly that Mariku could feel it brush against his own, feel the heat of his skin under the hand that cradled his head. _

_Ryou could only nod again weakly, heart positively thundering. _

"_Do you want me?" Mariku asked seriously and the thundering of his heart stuttered painfully. _

"_Yes." The word was out before he could stop himself. Cautious hope rose up in Mariku's face and Ryou quickly squashed it before it could grow. "I-I want you but I...can't. I can't do this, Mariku," He said, insistently trying to pull away but Mariku held fast, not even showing that he had to put so much as a thought into it. _

"_Let me go," Ryou pleaded pathetically, struggling weakly, "Please, Mariku, just let me go." _

"_Don't ask me to do that," Mariku responded in a dull voice, coloured with a deep heart aching misery. "Even if you can never ever love me back, don't ask me to let you go. It will kill me." Ryou froze at the 'L' word, that unbeatable desire rising back up inside of him again. _

"_Isn't it...worse this way?" He asked softly, studying Mariku's face with concern as it turned blank in that familiar way. It used to do that a lot when he would get depressed but it hadn't happened for a long time. _

"_..." Mariku mumbled something but even so close together Ryou didn't catch it. _

"_What?" He prompted and Mariku's gaze snapped up, flashing fury. _

"_I said there is nothing worse than living without you. Nothing, Ryou. If you hate me, fine, hurt me, I'm telling you exactly how to do it. But if you like me even a little bit...don't do this to me," The anger had faded from his tone, changing to a keening plead at the end that bit into Ryou's soft heart and refused to let go._

"_I do like you Mariku, I would never want to hurt you purposefully," He said firmly, and relief filled Mariku's face, bringing him down from his volatile state. _

"_Thank you," He muttered, feeling pathetic but far more relieved than anything else. Life without Ryou was even worse than life had been during his pre-Prozac phase, and that had been a twilight zone of depression with occasional spikes of uncontrollable rage that he struggled to contain even a little bit. _

"_For the record...it's not that I don't have, um, feelings, for you," Ryou said quietly and Mariku's head shot up, looking at him with disbelief. _

"_Then why not?" He demanded, bracing himself for what was sure to be a painful argument. _

"_I can't because I...I don't...I can't trust you," Ryou choked out slowly, flushing angrily as he felt tears beginning to blur his vision. He banished them fiercely, determined not to make this harder than it already was. _

_Mariku felt the words stab him, wincing but otherwise not showing his internal pain. _

"_Oh," Was all he said, that fog beginning to lower over his mind again. He pushed it back desperately, trying to fight it but knowing it was hopeless. _

"_It's not just you!" Ryou blurted and Mariku wished for a moment that he would just stop talking and stop adding more pain on top of already ugly scars. _

"_Who could you trust less than me?" He deadpanned and Ryou flinched. _

"_Everyone," He replied, voice showing his hurt. _

"_You don't trust anyone more than me?" Mariku asked, this information catching his attention. _

"_N-no...I mean...y-you scare me sometimes but that's n-not why," Ryou stammered nervously. "But I can't tell you," He added quickly, nerves eating away at his self control, tempted to simply curl up in a ball and wait for all the fear to go away. _

"_Ryou" –_

"_I can't! I can't tell you," Ryou shouted and Mariku blinked, surprised to hear Ryou raise his voice at all. That maybe happened once a year at most. _

"_Why?" _

"_I just can't," Ryou insisted, trembling slightly as the tears welled up in his eyes again._

"_Alright, alright, I get it, just...don't cry. I suck at comforting people," Mariku begged, raising his hands defensively and Ryou let out a small nervous giggle, pressing his shaking fingers to his eyes. _

"_I guess I'm not your first choice of person to be around then," He replied shakily and Mariku frowned though he resisted the urge to step closer. _

"_You're always my first choice," Mariku said stubbornly and Ryou flushed cutely, averting his gaze shyly. _

"_Um...thanks?" He tried and Mariku rolled his eyes obviously. The whitette sighed, knowing he had caused some serious damage that he somehow needed to make up for. _

"_Why did you come today anyways?" He asked suddenly and Mariku blinked, looking surprised and then a little pleased that he'd thought to ask. _

"_Well you came and watched me play football. 'Kura basically ordered me to babysit you since you were staying after school anyways," He teased, forever disbelieving of the Touzoku twin's relationship. _

"_So you just came because Bakura told you to?" Ryou asked curiously and Mariku shrugged, looking away awkwardly. _

"_Does it really matter? I just wanted to see you, even if you didn't want to see me," He muttered and Ryou looked stricken. _

"_Don't say that, I'm glad you came," He said firmly and Mariku smiled a little, which was a small improvement at least. _

"_Even though I scared your...student away?" Mariku questioned, making an immature face at the word student, coaxing a sweet laugh from Ryou. _

"_Kana-chan? No, I don't really mind...I'll have to apologize to her but I'm sure she'll understand. Why did she annoy you so much anyways?" Mariku raised one blond eyebrow as though it should be obvious. _

"_She's a girl, you're a boy, you two were alone together and she kept calling you by that stupid nickname, Touzoku-chan. Why else?" Mariku asked bluntly with a small scowl. _

"_You were jealous?" Ryou asked, lips parting in shock and Mariku's scowl deepened unhappily. _

"_Of course I was. You have every reason to like her more than me, even if she is a stupid girl," He grumbled and Ryou just laughed. _

"_Mariku, you think all girls are stupid," He laughed again and Mariku rolled his eyes. _

"_Well they are, especially the ones that flirt with you," He insisted stubbornly, effectively stopping Ryou's laughter although it was replaced by a soft shy gaze in his direction. Mariku looked back uncertainly, not sure if he'd said something right or wrong._

"_I told you...I like you. You don't have to be jealous of anyone," Ryou said sweetly, and Mariku looked at him sceptically. _

"_If you don't trust me than you don't like me very much," He said frankly and Ryou just shook his head. _

"_Those are two entirely different things," Ryou pointed out while Mariku just scratched his head in confusion, kohl marks crinkling around his eyes as he squinted. _

"_I don't get it," He finally said, sighing in defeat. _

"_If I didn't want to trust you, then I wouldn't like you very much," Ryou explained patiently. "But it's not that I don't want to I just...haven't figured out how," He sounded a little nervous but Mariku's expression turned eager. _

"_But I can try right?" Ryou looked at him blankly, not sure what spontaneous plan he had come up with now. _

"_Try what?" _

"_Getting you to trust me. Even if I can't change the past, there's got to be something I can do," Mariku said stubbornly and Ryou felt a smile tugging at his lips, forcing them upwards despite his efforts to beat it down. _

_He didn't want to lead Mariku on, part of him still wished this entire confrontation hadn't happened at all, but at the same time...at the same time even if he couldn't trust Mariku with the truth just yet, he knew he definitely wouldn't be able to if he never tried. _

_His fear had always been the most painful obstacle to get over, constantly getting in the way of his ability to trust anyone but Mariku had a point. He wanted to trust him. He wanted the piece of him that refused to open up to anyone to go away so badly...and Mariku was offering to try. _

_Where was the harm in that? _

"_I guess...there might be. Maybe if we...spent more time together?" Ryou offered up half heartedly and Mariku's grin grew even more pronounced. _

"_You actually want to spend more time with me?" He asked playfully, stepping closer and Ryou swallowed nervously. _Go away_, he begged internally, _just let me enjoy myself for once_. _The past is the past, it shouldn't matter. Mariku would never hurt me that way. He would never hurt anyone that way_. _

"_Y-yes," He stammered, taking a deep breath and holding his ground. _

"_I think I could live with that," Mariku said thoughtfully and Ryou smiled at his almost childish tone. Sometimes Mariku utterly amazed him, and those wonderful flutteringly romantic feelings in his stomach completely agreed. _

"_So...do you like music?" He asked and Mariku looked at him blankly. _

"_Do you ever listen to music?" Ryou tried instead and understanding crossed Mariku's face. _

"_Not really, but I guess it's alright," He replied with a small shrug. "I've never really listened to anything by...that thing though. It seemed pretty boring to me," Mariku continued, pointing suspiciously at the violin that lay forgotten on the desk. _

_Ryou looked surprised that he'd even pointed it out, and then laughed slightly at his assessment. _

"_It's not boring to play and there's different types of music other than just classical, which is probably all you've ever heard," He explain, walking over to pick up his personal violin lovingly. _

"_...What's 'classical'?" Mariku asked and Ryou paused, turning to look at him with a puzzled expression, trying to figure out if he was joking or not. _

"_You don't know what classical music is?" He questioned cautiously and Mariku shook his head no, curiosity on his face as his eyes remained trained on the wooden instrument with its strings and bow. It suited Ryou somehow, but he wasn't really sure how since he knew almost nothing about music. _

_Growing up in Egypt with a father like his didn't give him any room for learning about such things, and once he moved to Japan it hadn't seemed important. _

"_Well...I can show you, if you'd like," Ryou offered shyly and Mariku's gaze flickered up to lock with his. He looked a little nervous but not afraid for once at least. _

"_Sure," Mariku said, looking back at the violin with even more interest now that he knew Ryou really could play it. _

_Nestling the wooden body between his chin and his shoulder, Ryou held it carefully, bringing his right hand up to slide the bow along the first string, bringing out a beautiful resonating sound. It reminded Mariku of his whitette's sweet voice, and he liked it. _

_Then Ryou began to play, weaving music with the voice of the violin and Mariku listened for a minute, enjoying the sound immensely. He could hear Ryou in it much more clearly than he could when he spoke so nervously. _

_Ryou watched Mariku out of the corner of his eye, seeing his expression change from mild curiosity to some form of understanding and then...something he couldn't quite understand. Contentment? Pleasure? Something positive at least._

_Ryou drew the short song to an end and Mariku finally blinked those mauve eyes, frowning slightly. _

"_Why'd you stop?" He demanded and Ryou smiled at him patiently. _

"_Because the song ended, I picked a short one because I wanted to show you classical music," He explained. _

"_That was classical music?" Ryou nodded in confirmation. _

_Mariku thought for a long moment then said, "I liked it." Ryou laughed slightly, feeling more nervous romantic butterflies for some reason. He wasn't sure why, but he liked it a lot that Mariku enjoyed his music. _

"_There's other types of music the violin can play other then classical, of course. Do you want to hear them?" Mariku's nod came eagerly this time and Ryou smiled again, the expression of an angel that made his soft face absolutely glow. _

_The violin came up again in one smooth motion and Mariku wasn't sure what he was expecting –but it wasn't the fast paced notes that came flying from the instrument. He listened uneasily for a moment, straining to 'hear' Ryou within the music again and unhappy when he couldn't. _

_Of course, the second he stopped trying, disappointed, he immediately found the sound again. It wasn't as noticeable as in the classical piece, nor as pleasant, but Ryou's voice was definitely still there. This time it was toned with frustration and Mariku recognized it as the tone he had used when he spoke about trust. _

_Was that on purpose? Could Ryou himself hear it or was this something only someone listening could detect? Or maybe it was just Mariku. He didn't know, he barely knew anything about music anyways. Maybe this was normal. Maybe this was special. Either way, he liked it. _

_There was something so...personal about it. _

_All too soon this song had ended as well but then Ryou started up another one, a far livelier almost bouncing tune that sounded like it belonged in an Irish folk song. Again it took Mariku some time to find the 'Ryou' in it, since Ryou wasn't usually a very playful person but he showed hints here and there. _

_The way he had laughed in delight when Mariku admitted to not knowing anything about music. The way he smiled when Mariku wanted to hear more. Who knew you could learn so much about a person from their instrument?_

_After Ryou stopped playing Mariku finally asked, "Can you hear yourself in the music?" Ryou looked at him curiously for a moment, cocking his head slightly. _

"_What do you mean?" He asked and Mariku shrugged. _

"_I don't know. I hear you, when you play. I wondered if you could hear it to," He replied simply and Ryou looked thoughtful, sliding the bow along the strings to produce a single sweet note. _

"_I guess...not really, but it makes sense. I've heard of people being personified in music before. Maybe I put the most of myself into violin because it's my favourite and that's why you can hear me," He said, pursing his lips slightly but Mariku's eyes widened in childish amazement. _

"_You can play other instruments the same way? And I would be able to hear other people?" He demanded and that beautiful smile was back on Ryou's face, delighted with his eagerness. This side of Mariku and perhaps of Ryou as well was rare to see but enjoyable when it came out. They both quietly observed the hidden side of the other. _

"_Of course, I've always loved learning new instruments. I'm not sure about expressing other people but I can try," He said shyly and Mariku cast his gaze around the room curiously. _

"_That's a saxophone, right?" He asked, staring at the well known golden bodied instrument with its bulky body and swan neck. Ryou nodded fondly, walking over to pick up the instrument, sliding the strap around his neck. _

_Flicking out his tongue he slid it along the reed, wetting it as he thought about who he'd try to 'voice' through the saxophone. Mariku was startled, staring as Ryou licked the thing, looking strangely innocent while provocative at the same time. _

_He licked his own lips, feeling a certain hunger clawing inside his stomach. _

"_Alright, guess who this is," Ryou said suddenly, snapping Mariku out of his lustful thoughts. _

"_Um...okay," He said uncertainly, not sure he'd be able to repeat the trick from before if it was someone other than Ryou. The black tip went into Ryou's mouth again, making Mariku swallow hard, but this time it was followed by a loud reedy sound that kept switching from playful and jazzy to something darker and more foreboding. _

_He wasn't even sure if it was a real song, or just notes Ryou had randomly thrown together. The whole thing was just confusing...and that was when he figured out who Ryou was 'voicing'. _

_Scowling to himself he didn't bother waiting for Ryou to finish, not pausing to think it might be rude as he said over the music, "The only person that messed up is the brat." _

_Ryou laughed, the sound muffled by the mouthpiece and he pulled it out, still giggling a little helplessly. _

"_Was it too obvious? I guess Malik is a bit...confused," He said, and Mariku snorted slightly. _

"_Confused? No, he just doesn't want to admit that he's gay. And he calls me a fruit," He complained and Ryou giggled again, muffling it with a palm. Mariku watched contentedly, loving the way even his eyes seemed to sparkle so much more cheerfully then his usual strained front of happiness. _

"_How do you hold it up like that?" He asked curiously, standing up and prowling over to scoop up the bottom of the instrument in one hand, lifting it away from Ryou to test the weight. To him it didn't feel like much but it must weigh a mountain in Ryou's ghostly arms. _

"_What do you mean? It's not like it's hard or anything," Ryou replied in a puzzled tone and Mariku turned to look at him, running his eyes over his body slowly before bringing them up to his now flushed cheeks. Having Mariku blatantly check him out was both thrilling and nervous-making at the same time. _

_Or were those the same thing? _

"_You're so little. How do you hold it up?" Ryou's sweet expression crumpled into a pout, narrowing his milk chocolate eyes at Mariku playfully. _

"_I'm not that little. Besides, after awhile I built up the muscle I needed," He said proudly and Mariku just looked sceptical. _

"_Let's see these 'muscles'," He teased and Ryou grinned a little at the challenge. _

"_Well you wouldn't notice them because they're musician muscles. My diaphragm for one," He pointed to his sternum area as he spoke, outlining the area with one finger. Mariku reached out one hand and grabbed his, pulling it away from the area with no concern for the nervous reaction it produced in Ryou. _

"_How can you have a muscle from playing music there?" He questioned glancing between Ryou's face and his chest curiously. _

"_Um...well...breathing actually," Ryou explain a little awkwardly. _

"_Breathing?" Mariku asked, leaning back to look at him with disbelief. _

"_I would never be able to play an instrument if I just breathed from my chest like I normally do; I have to breathe from my diaphragm. I can store more air but I have to fill it up and hold it all in so wind or brass players start to develop muscle there after awhile." _

_He balled one alabaster fist, pounding it against his 'diaphragm muscle' with a firm thumping noise. Mariku actually looked a little impressed. _

"_Can I see?" He asked and Ryou nearly fell over, staring at Mariku with lips slightly parted. _

"_Excuse me?" He managed in a shocked voice. _

"_What?" Mariku asked with a devilish smirk. "Scared I'm going to like what I see?" His voice held a slight seductive purr and Ryou shivered at the sound. Again that strange mix of thrilling nerves. _

"_A-a little...I also kind of hope you do," He responded as boldly as he could, cheeks flushing noticeably but he reached down to grab the hem of his shirt, lifting it up. Mariku stared at the flat expanse of his smooth marble white skin and felt the urge to run his hands over it and taste it and..._

_Well, nothing he could do without terrifying Ryou. _

_The lust was probably evident on his face but he didn't care. All that bare skin from his belly button to the bottom of his ribcage made him want the other boy even more than he already did. Ryou sucked in a deep breath, blowing out his stomach and his chest as far as he could and Mariku was surprised to see that a muscle actually did form noticeably, marking where his diaphragm was. _

_He could hear the air slowly blowing from between Ryou's lips in a slow controlled flow, ruffling his carefully styled wild blond spikes. Reaching out with a one part curious two parts desirous hand, he touched that silky smooth skin that gave beneath his large hand easily. _

_All the air whooshed from Ryou's lungs in surprise at the touch though he didn't flinch away; lulled by the warm sensation it gave him both internally and physically. _

"_What are you doing?" He asked in a slightly more guarded tone and Mariku glanced up at him, wiggling his fingers playfully just to feel Ryou shiver. _

"_I was just curious...Does it bother you?" He asked and Ryou shook his head though his cheeks were completely flushed, bringing up his own smaller hand to press against the back of Mariku's, holding it closer to his own body. _

_The feeling of Mariku's golden slightly rougher skin sliding against his own babyish skin was gloriously good. Maybe even sinfully good but he couldn't bring himself to regret it. _

"_It feels good," He admitted after a long moment, then pulled in another breath so that they could both feel his diaphragm expanding this time. Mariku made a sound of agreement, actually stroking the skin now and Ryou released his hand so that it could slide across his single muscle before gliding down his stomach causing goose bumps to break out across Ryou's skin. _

_It reached Ryou's belly button, poking him once and then pulling away, coaxing a giggle from his shy lips. Ryou released his shirt, letting it fall to cover himself up again before glancing up at Mariku who was smirking slightly. _

"_That wasn't so bad, was it?" He asked smoothly and Ryou shook his head, smiling at him strangely. "I noticed you have calluses. Is that from the...violin?" Mariku asked, pausing to remember its name this time rather than just calling it 'that thing'. _

_Meanwhile his exploring hand caught Ryou's left, spreading the fingers to touch the tips that had slightly thicker skin from his usual delicate paper thin spread. Ironically this actually made Ryou catch his breath though he didn't pull his hand from Mariku's powerful grip, allowing him to examine the calluses for a moment. _

"_Yes...from pressing the frets," Ryou explained quietly, feeling a little weak in the knees all of a sudden. _

"_I don't know what frets are but it looks like it would hurt," Mariku stated suspiciously, pinching the skin lightly and Ryou managed a small breathless laugh. _

"_A little at first," He agreed, curling his fingers a little and fluttering them lightly inside of the secure cradle Mariku had it in. "But like muscles, I adjusted and now it feels good," He added, flipping his long white hair away from his face with his free hand so that he could look up at Mariku with a stare that said he was talking about a lot more than just muscles. _

"_Any other hidden muscles I should know about?" Mariku asked lightly, dropping his hand and Ryou frowned a little, causing his lips to pout slightly. _

"_Only in my face," He said with a small shrug and Mariku cocked his head, eyes burning with that familiar curiosity as he leaned his own face closer, scrutinizing Ryou's carefully. _

"_When I play piccolo I have to do this," Ryou showed, flattening his lower lip and shrugging the corners of his lips downwards. Mariku took a moment to laugh at the strange expression and Ryou stopped to stick out his tongue immaturely. _

"_Funny looks aside, it builds up some muscle here," He said, tracing above his jaw line. "But I have more from playing sax here," He pressed his fingers to either side of his mouth where most people would have smile lines. _

"_What face do you have to make for that?" Mariku teased and Ryou rolled his eyes but curled his lower lip back over his bottom row of teeth and squeezed the corners of his lips inwards a little so his lips pouted slightly. _

_To his surprise Mariku didn't laugh this time. Instead his gaze softened as he reached out, cupping Ryou's face in his hands, feeling the muscles of his jaw contract and then brushing his thumb along the 'smile' muscles that were surprisingly hard for such small unnoticeable things. _

_They relaxed under the touch as Ryou stopped flexing almost unconsciously. His gaze was dominated by Mariku's, staring up at him speechlessly, feeling paralyzed all over again though in a far more pleasant way this time. _

_Tilting his head, Mariku's gaze traced those pouted pink lips and was unable to resist leaning in to feel them against his own. As his face approached Ryou's, it was clear the other noticed where he was going with this because his fawn-like eyes widened hugely though he was unable to even think about tensing up as his muscles turned to jelly. _

"_W-what" –He started but Mariku just brushed fingers over his still slightly pouted lily pink lips. _

"_Shh," He insisted softly, intense mauve eyes shutting as their lips met in a soft tender touch that he quickly deepened, sucking the whitette's plump lower lip between his own deliciously. Ryou froze, breath hitching loudly though he didn't pull away from the sudden kiss. _

_Fear battered his insides yet the heat of Mariku's curious lips on his seemed to spread from his mouth to his throat, and then down into his chest and stomach. His face was on fire and his insides were boiling but for some reason that felt amazing. _

_And terrifying. _

_But mostly amazing. _

_The last kiss that affected him in a way even close to whatever he was feeling right now...well, that wasn't a kiss he wanted to remember. The thought brought back the fear and he pushed it away fiercely, instead responding by shifting his own lips against Mariku's in the lightest of shy kisses. _

_The action surprised Mariku enough that his mouth relaxed and then pulled back entirely. Ryou was still staring up at him, looking like he was stuck between wanting to faint from happiness and wanting to faint from terror. _

"_You taste good," Mariku said with a slightly amused smirk on his face, leaning in to kiss him again but this time Ryou's hands shot up pushing him away slightly as he backed up. Mariku frowned, seeing that the whitette was now trembling a bit and looking scared. _

"_I can't...I told you I can't," He stammered, the flush completely gone from his ghostly face. His eyes were so wide and dark against the pale back drop they looked ready to swallow him whole. It wasn't that he didn't like the kiss, it just reminded him too much of that other 'kiss'. _

_How was he supposed to just get over it that quickly? These things simply didn't work that way...Mariku buried his disappointment, allowing himself only a small sigh. _

"_Alright," He said simply with a shrug, and Ryou blinked at him miserably. _

"_It's not alright," He mumbled, tugging his white locks in one hand with frustration, a scowl written across his lips. There was nothing alright about receiving an almost passionate kiss and returning it happily only to push the giver away again afterwards cowardly. _

_What was wrong with him? He was all happy, then scared and now...now he wanted that moment back even though he knew if he got it he'd just wreck it again. _

"_Sure it is," Mariku said, looking at him strangely. "You told me you didn't trust me yet. As long as I know that one day you will, it doesn't matter when. I can wait." His tone was casual as though he was promising to make Ryou a sandwich rather than promising to wait for what could be anywhere from weeks to years for the delicate whitette to open his heart up to him. _

"_You're not...mad?" Ryou asked cautiously and Mariku rolled his eyes, adorning a smirk that he shot slyly in Ryou's direction. _

"_Hell no, I've wanted to know what you tasted you like forever. Most interesting thing I've learned all day," He assured him devilishly and Ryou's eyes widened, licking his own lips automatically. _

"_O-oh," He said in an embarrassed but slightly flattered tone. _

"_But so you know, I'm not giving up. Now that I know you like me, you're never getting rid of me," Mariku said flirtatiously, skimming his eyes over Ryou who flushed, though a smile curled his lips sweetly. _

"_Good, I would feel...weird if you weren't always like this," Ryou agreed thankfully. _

"_Like what?" Mariku questioned with a raised eyebrow, leaning closer to him. _

"_L-like that. You know, flirting with me and stuff," Ryou replied as articulately as he could which wasn't very when those haunting deep purple eyes were focused on him so entirely. _

"_You like it, hm?" Mariku questioned in that beautiful purring tone. Ryou realized that even if it felt like they hadn't made any progress, at some point they must have. His seductive, persuasive voice used to bring back all sorts of terrifying memories from when he would bully Ryou...now that didn't seem nearly as bad as the memories from before then._

_It was still there but it wasn't quite as bad. Not crippling at least. _

"_Maybe a little," Ryou admitted quietly, that thrilling mix of longing and fear written all over his dazed face. Mariku just chuckled, ruffling his white hair to make it momentarily more like Bakura's before Ryou could flatten it again with an annoyed sound. _

"_Good," Was all Mariku said with a small smirk that confirmed he was in no way giving up any time soon. _

_How could he when he was so close?_

**End Flashback**

**A/N: So there, I got to write all about music FINALLY (I always seem to end up writing about the other arts instead of my own for some reason...) and show some major progress in the Deathshipping ;) Well you guys didn't actually think a couple scary stories were the only trauma Ryou had endured right? Oh no, he doesn't get off the hook that easy...but you'll have to read and find out what else has happened! And no, it's not what you are all expecting; I'm going to tell you that right now ;)**


	14. Butterflies

**A/N: And switching back to thiefshipping now! I'm trying to balance it out a bit but it's easier said than done. I really like this chapter, because cuddling is one of the best things ever invented *cough* hint *cough*. It makes me so happy in real life and even just writing about it ~_^***

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

While Ryou remembered, it left Malik alone with his confusing thoughts. Sometimes it felt like he didn't know anything at all about himself. Well, no, he did know _something._

He knew he had a crush on Bakura.

He knew Bakura often went through flirtatious moments that were always directed towards him, but he also knew Bakura wasn't really a 'relationship' kind of guy.

What he didn't know...there was a lot of things he _didn't_ know but the most pressing at the moment was whether or not this was just a passing fancy, the need to experiment that a lot of teenagers went through, or something more.

Truthfully he was starting to suspect that he really was gay, for Bakura at least, but he was hesitant to put his heart on the line for the Thief King, not to mention his sexuality. Making out was great and all, but was Bakura even capable of liking someone in a deeper than physical way?

He had denied it before. Was the case still the same?

The make out with Mariku said it was.

The way he got pissed off earlier said it wasn't.

Over all, Malik had no idea whatsoever. He couldn't see Bakura hesitating to break his heart if he accepted his feelings for the other boy and the Thief King didn't return them.

"Things have been better since we started spending more time together...but it's so hard to know whether or not I can really trust him." Ryou's sad comment fell so in line with Malik's own internal musings that he wondered for a moment if Ryou could sense his thoughts.

"I know the feeling," Malik muttered in a bitterly sympathetic way and Ryou gave him a strange look, probably wondering what he was referring to, but chose to let it go. He wasn't the type of person that liked to push into other people's personal affairs, something Malik was extremely grateful for.

It was a nice break from the bossy attitudes of his crush and his older brother.

"I want to trust him though," Ryou added in a hopeful tone, blowing out his breath in a small thoughtful huff. Malik made a small sound of insecure agreement, not so sure on that one. He supposed some of him wanted to trust Bakura with his feelings.

The whole situation just seemed so shaky...and this was his first 'boy crush'. Not to mention they hadn't even known each other that long. The whole thing was a mess and his personal insecurities hardly helped the situation.

Seeking some comfort he asked, "Why do you have so much trouble trusting Mariku anyways? It's not _all_ about the bullying thing is it?"

_Please, please, someone be able to offer at least a little insight. What do I do? Can I really trust him? Can I trust _me_? _Ryou opened his mouth slightly, looking at Malik nervously, and then looked away again.

"I...there's been plenty of stuff. I'll get over it one day," he finally said in a forced cheerful tone, those innocent eyes seeming to be drowning in the smothered anxiety that Malik had long since gotten used to looking for.

He continued to watch the whitette who looked like a perfectly innocent, happy, normal guy as he stepped up to the booth, chatting with the girl standing there who beamed at him brightly before handing over his popcorn.

Ryou took a second one and handed it over to Malik who thanked him, but even to his own ears it sounded wooden as he observed the other boy. He couldn't help wondering how he hid his anxiety so well. Malik wished he could do that.

As it was, he could see the amusement in Bakura's smirk when his own personal confusion got too hard to conceal.

Sighing, he dragged his feet back over to the bleachers, feeling his insides react when he saw that Bakura hadn't moved an inch from earlier. Finally he simply had to ask _someone_ even if it was Ryou who had just as many problems as he did.

"Do you really think he...you know..._likes me,_ likes me?" He questioned nervously, observing Bakura silently who was still glaring out at the field while the football players started to file back out. Ryou glanced at him and smiled, a real smile this time, and thankfully not as patronizingly as some people might have.

"I'm his twin, but I can't read his mind. Still, you should know, he's never treated anyone the way he treats you before. Just look at the way he's sulking! I've never seen him so upset over something so little before," Ryou laughed quietly, looking at his brother fondly.

Seeing Bakura pout was disturbingly wrong but also kind of cute at the same time in a strange way. Malik sighed, liking the sound of that and yet finding it hard to believe. What would it take to convince himself?

Probably Bakura confessing to his face that he really 'liked him, liked him' which wasn't likely to happen.

"You know if I were you," Ryou started innocently, turning to face him with wide eyes, "And I maybe wanted to know if I possibly had feelings for someone who might like me back a lot, but I wasn't entirely sure yet and that person wasn't extremely happy with me at the moment, I might try to make it up to that person sooner rather than later. You never know, it could help me understand his...or her...feelings for me a little better, and maybe my feelings to."

Malik gave him a disbelieving look at the rather translucent analogy, getting a grin and a wink for his efforts before Ryou all but skipped back to his seat, wiggling past Bakura who didn't even glance his way.

Malik glanced at the warm popcorn in his arms, then at Bakura and the open spot beside him that Malik had been formerly occupying. Giving it some thought and feeling his brain simply turning in circles again he finally pushed all coherent thought away and just went with what he was feeling –and what he was feeling was cold and lonely and wanting some attention from his crush.

Walking over cautiously, he hesitated beside Bakura who stubbornly avoided his gaze though his scowl grew a little more pronounced. A cheer came from the crowd and Malik knew it was time to make his move if he was going to at all.

Glancing at the field once more he promptly plunked himself down to perch on Bakura's knees, forcing the whitette to sit up straighter, making a sound of surprise at the sudden motion.

"I would have thought you were used to guys randomly dropping into your lap by now," Malik commented with a smirk, the expression only growing when he saw the way Bakura glared at him darkly, struggling to fold his arms without touching Malik's back that was mere inches from him.

"I haven't had any guys in my lap for quite awhile now for your information," he muttered, leaning away from the blond who was wrecking havoc inside his body without even trying, simply by sitting in his lap. Malik just munched his popcorn nonchalantly, looking smug. Finally he tossed his new 'chair' a cheeky smile, feeling relief flutter up inside him.

"Stop being so pissy and just enjoy the game," he said lightly, turning to face the field again before taking a deep breath and wriggling back in Bakura's lap so that his back pressed to his crushes rather firm and way too attractive chest.

Those silly butterfly feelings churned excitedly in the pit of his stomach, unable to dislike the implications, whether they were true or not, that Bakura hadn't been 'with' anyone since he started acting affectionate towards Malik.

Besides, he was surprisingly warm for someone who had been acting so cold, and Malik could feel every inch of hesitant surprise in his body language.

After a long moment of struggling to figure out whether or not Malik was being serious or not, Bakura decided not to let the opportunity go by. Leaning into his smaller figure, he wound his arms around his Egyptian's waist tightly from behind, cuddling their bodies together.

To his surprise, rather than stiffening up Malik relaxed, giving a small relieved sigh that he couldn't quite muffle.

"You're fucking cold, I should have known you had an ulterior motive," Bakura grumbled in his own accepting way and Malik shivered appreciatively in response.

"Of course," Malik replied in a casually sarcastic tone, slowly unclenching the muscles in his legs so that he could lay back, fully supported by Bakura's arms and chest. For the record, Bakura made zero complaints about the position, seeming perfectly content and maybe even happy this way.

"Can you see alright?" Malik asked quietly, feeling Bakura shifting behind him.

"Hm," was all he got in response, followed by Bakura's chin coming to rest on his shoulder. Malik turned his head slightly to the right and found himself face to face with two deep bloody brown eyes that stared into his lavender gaze unflinchingly.

Malik quickly looked back to the field, feeling heat rise up in his cheeks in what was probably a very obvious blush as he realized just how close together they were. Bakura confirmed this suspicion with a small chuckle right by his ear, making Malik blush harder, though at the moment he couldn't find a reason to regret sitting where he did.

Bakura was like an old familiar blanket, wrapped around him all cuddly and warm, something he never thought he'd connect Bakura with, but the sensation was all together there. Reaching down with only brief hesitation he grabbed Bakura's hands so that he could pull the usually harsh whitette's arms tighter around him, increasing the comforting sensation.

Bakura felt Malik coaxing him to hold him tighter and was too surprised to react for a moment, then gladly tightened his grip, hugging him even closer. There was no denying the way they were pressed together now and Bakura for one was grateful that at least for now Malik wasn't denying the way things were between them.

He knew better than to think it would last, it was dangerous to even get comfortable in his new position but the sensation of the smaller boys body so tightly in his arms just the way he wanted it wasn't something he was willing to give up that easily. He wanted him and, at least for now, he had him.

All thoughts of cherishing the moment while it lasted increased tenfold when one of the football players broke away from their huddle long enough to look up at the stands. Pulling off his helmet, it became obvious from all the wild blond hair that the person was Mariku and he was glaring directly at Bakura.

Obviously seeing Bakura cuddling his extremely willing little brother wasn't part of his 'game plan'. Bakura grinned hugely just to get on his nerves and Mariku flipped him off, waving his fist with its protruding digit proudly in the air. He shouted something that sounded distinctly like 'Fuck you 'Kura!'

Returning the rude symbol, Bakura shouted back, "Right back at you babe!" Ryou burst into a fit of giggles and Malik couldn't help laughing as well, mostly at the sound of Bakura using a word like _babe._ Somehow he made even that sound biting and witty.

Still laughing helplessly, Malik blew his brother a large kiss just to rub it in, giving Bakura an immense amount of smug satisfaction. Ryou frowned, leaning over to smack them both over the head firmly, bringing protests from their dying smirks.

"That's for distracting him from his game, on his birthday to!" Ryou chastised before turning to wave at Mariku cheerfully who blew him a kiss that made him blush even from across the field.

"That actually hurt," Malik whined, rubbing his head gingerly and Bakura removed one arm from around his waist to push his hand away impatiently, rubbing soothing circles across the place Ryou had smacked. In contrast to the gentle Touzoku's violent act, Bakura was being strangely...nice.

Malik was suspicious for a second but it just felt so damn good that he couldn't help but lean into the gentle touch. Bakura's other hand left his waist, coming up to trail across his shoulder and begin rubbing deeply when he found a tender spot.

He noted that the effeminate boy's shoulders were much too broad and manly for a girl's in comparison to the rest of his 'girly' physique. Malik let out an involuntary moan as Bakura hit another sweet spot on his back, then immediately snapped his mouth shut in embarrassment.

Ignoring the arousing sound as best he could given current circumstances, Bakura began running his fingers through surprisingly thick white blond hair. Such a curious color against that golden skin...Malik relaxed again, snuggling back against his chest affectionately and pulling his free arm back around his waist eagerly.

Bakura continued to stroke his hair absentmindedly, trying to ignore the fact that when Malik cuddled closer and tilted his head like that it put his neck at the perfect angle for some well placed hickies that Bakura would have gladly given him.

_Not mine,_ Bakura reminded himself firmly, _it seems like it right now but he's not mine...not yet anyways._ That was something that needed to change though, very, very soon.

"Ne, Malik? I have an idea..."

**A/N: What plan might that be? These two need to stop meddling in the Deathshipping...although it makes it that much more fun to write about ;)**


	15. Say It

**A/N: Alright so this is another thiefshipping-focused chapter, a bit on the short side, I know, but worth it I'm hoping! Anyways, I got a lot of reviews for the last chapter saying it was strange to see Bakura being so cute. I was actually very pleased by that because now this chapter gets to blow you all away (metaphorically speaking)! Mwahahaha...ALSO, I actually almost have a hundred reviews for this story! Wow, I've never ever gotten this many before, I'm so incredibly happy, a big thank you to all you who have reviewed! ^^**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

Mariku jogged up the bleacher steps, sweaty and tired, but far too eager to see Ryou again to waste time walking.

"You won!" Ryou exalted immediately when he caught sight of him, launching himself joyfully into Mariku's welcoming arms in a tight hug like he'd just returned from war. Mariku laughed deep in his throat, enjoying the feeling of having his _date_ in his arms after a gruelling game.

"He also smells. Stop clinging to him, it's disturbing," Bakura ordered and Ryou immediately pulled back much to Mariku's annoyance. Why did Bakura have to ruin their moment? Didn't he know that was the smell of victory?

"I'll tell you what's disturbing," Mariku growled, eyes flashing irritably as he swung around to face Bakura who was still holding Malik captive in his arms casually, like it was no big deal.

"Aw, you don't like seeing me cuddle with your little brother?" Bakura mocked in a babying voice. "Wouldn't you rather he was with me than Pegasus? Or _Ryou?_" Mariku glared irritably down at the two cuddle bunnies like the searing force of his gaze could separate them.

It had no real effect except to make Bakura look even smugger as he tugged Malik even closer. The young Egyptian fidgeted, then leaped up from his makeshift seat though his hand remained linked with the Thief King's tightly.

"We should go back to our place," he announced quickly and Mariku gave him a suspicious look. Rising behind him, Bakura gave a suggestive laugh, sliding a finger through Malik's belt loop and tugging on it just to make his presence there known.

"Yes, let's go back to your place. I can't _wait _to see these sexy motorcycle skills of yours," he said flirtatiously and Malik's naturally golden brown cheeks turned a hot noticeable pink, reacting more in character this time as a scowl followed the blush, shoving Bakura irritably.

"Shut up or you're walking home," he threatened and Bakura rolled his eyes but started hopping down the bleachers, forcing Malik to follow or be dragged along impatiently by his hand which was still firmly attached to the others ghostly white appendage.

"See you when we get there!" Bakura shouted back over his shoulder, not waiting for the okay from Mariku as he continued on his own way with no regard for 'anyone' else.

Once they were a couple feet away from the tall bleachers, Bakura bumped Malik's hip mock flirtatiously, leaning in to murmur in his ear with some amusement, "You know, you're a _terrible_ actor."

"Because you were _so_ convincing when you talked about my _sexy_ motorcycle skills," Malik argued back bitterly, "If they bought that you would say that to me for two seconds they're even crazier than they already are."

"Oh they won't see through it. Ryou at least knows most of the time when I'm bluffing," Bakura said innocently, pursing his lips slightly to hold back his smirk while they walked side by side, hands still intertwined, swinging along between them almost romantically. Malik let out a choked sound of shock that he didn't quite manage to hold in at Bakura's implications.

"D-don't screw with me that way," he said, stammering just a little as he stared at the ground with embarrassment, nearly tripping over his own feet.

"You really fall apart when you're nervous, don't you?" Bakura asked, laughing coldly and Malik scowled, trying to ignore him but found it impossible when his crush released his hand in favour of sliding his arm around his shoulders so that he could move much closer into his personal space bubble.

"Malik," Bakura whispered his name in a teasingly flirtatious way, letting his hot breath flow directly into the shell of his ear. "Does it make you _nervous_ when guys hit on you? Hmm?" Malik couldn't help flinching away from his closeness, feeling his heart hammer unhealthily, yet it was almost pleasantly painful.

"Fuck you," Malik said firmly despite his internal uncertainty, pleased with how strongly it came out. Unfortunately, Bakura's wild grin said he'd played right into another trap from the great Thief King.

"I'd much rather fuck _you_," he said as suggestively as he could, and Malik stopped in his tracks, lips parting in silent shock at those words.

"I...you..._excuse me?_" he demanded, turning to face Bakura furiously who rolled his eyes, smacking the back of his head with the hand conveniently placed around his neck.

"Don't go getting a big head," he scoffed and Malik grumbled, rubbing the back of his head as he glared at Bakura spitefully, with hurt lavender eyes.

"Sorry, I forgot I couldn't take anything you say seriously, I won't make that mistake again," he spat back vehemently and Bakura felt slightly guilty for even tempting him in the first place.

He knew Malik wasn't ready for a relationship since he couldn't even come to terms with his own sexuality...but it was hard, especially as he caught sight of that gleaming red motorcycle just sitting there in the parking lot waiting for its driver, looking just as drool worthy as said driver.

Despite these thoughts, Bakura was unable to find a reason worth taking his arm from Malik's broad shoulders. His blond companion was stiff and his face a mask of awkward discomfort but his uncertainty held an unexpected element of adorableness that Bakura had never been able to appreciate in someone like Ryou.

Strangely, he enjoyed feeling it emanate, largely thanks to him, from Malik.

As they drew perpendicular to the motorcycle he felt Malik speeding up, looking to his escape eagerly, and Bakura frowned, disliking that. He couldn't have his Egyptian being pissy with him all evening or things wouldn't be nearly as much fun...

Sighing dramatically he asked, "You're going to make me say it aren't you?" Malik looked confused then hardened his expression, clamping down on any relatively nice expressions. Stupid albino Thief King, he was right not to put his heart on the line for someone so heart_less._

"I don't particularly care about whatever you feel the need to say right now," he muttered sourly, opting not to snap at him entirely. After all it wasn't like he _wanted _to 'fuck' with Bakura...of course not. That sort of thing didn't appeal to him, not with Bakura anyways.

What sort of sick person would fantasize about heated sexual activities with that gorgeous icy man?

Suddenly said gorgeous icy man's arm tightened around his shoulders and then whipped him around, backing him against the motorcycle firmly.

"What now?" Malik asked, struggling to obtain the perfect mix of irritated boredom. Just about impossible when Bakura's hands were sliding along his arms sensually, twisting their fingers, tan and bleached cream, together in a messy tumble.

"Do you really want to hear me say it?" he asked again, but it was much more affective this time as he murmured in the younger boy's ear in a persuasively romantic tone, tongue sliding out to lick his lips audibly.

Malik's eyes widened; breathe starting to come a bit faster as he found himself nearly pressed into the crook of Bakura's lily white neck, so pale it almost glowed against the evening air.

"Say w-what?" Malik asked weakly, feeling pathetic, but figuring it was unavoidable considering their extremely.._.personal_ position.

"That I'm sorry," Bakura whispered in his ear. "I guess I shouldn't screw with you so much...but it's not all messing around, you know," he continued almost thoughtfully, an apology that Malik realized with a thrill that very, very few had ever been privy to, if ever.

"I really do think riding a motorcycle is sexy. And I would totally fuck you if Mariku wouldn't kill me," he promised slyly and Malik felt himself turning red as all the blood rushed to his head. Bakura chuckled, stroking his thumb over the back of his hand soothingly and seductively at the same time.

"Calm down, just because I'm admitting to being extremely hot for you doesn't mean I'm going to jump you," Bakura said in what he probably thought was a 'comforting' way, pulling back just enough to smirk down at Malik's bright red, stunned face.

"Very comforting...good to know you think I'm pretty," the blond boy managed, voice a little breathless like he'd recently been winded but his managed to keep the quiver out of it this time. Bakura rolled his eyes, realizing with exasperation that Malik probably still thought he was screwing around with him.

"You're impossible," He said in mild frustration, since he _had_ gone to all the effort of apologizing after all. It wasn't something the Thief King often found himself doing. Something about those dazzling lavender eyes made it seem okay though...

God was he going soft or what?

"Why, because I'm not a whore that wants to jump in bed with you for one good shag and then move on?" Malik snapped fiercely and Bakura resisted the urge to cringe. Perhaps if Malik had just been some pretty boy he met briefly in a back alley bar that's what they'd be doing now...but that wasn't all he was.

They were, if nothing else, friends, and even Bakura was not so cold as to treat a friend that way.

"That was low of you," he replied, backing off some more and releasing those slender hands with a small frown set about his soft pink lips, delicate skin of his forehead crinkled about his dark eyes.

Malik sighed slightly, hanging his head in what might have been relief to finally have some personal space back, except for the fact that he reached out and grabbed Bakura's hand again loosely.

Pulling his head back up with weary pride he mumbled, "You're right, it was...sorry."

"At least you had the balls to look me in the eyes," Bakura mused with some of his good humour back, despite the small face that Malik made at his words.

"Of course," he replied with more of his regular cheeky tone this time, "I am a _boy_ you know, which obviously means I have –h-hey I never said you could" –his words weren't fast enough to stop Bakura from leaning in and pressing a quick chaste kiss to his cheek with an almost curious expression on his face.

The expression was all together too innocent for one so devious though, and his face promptly cracked out in a smirk again when he saw the once again stunned expression on Malik's face.

"You don't ask permission to kiss someone. Would you rather I _did_ jump you?" he snickered at Malik's half hearted attempt to stop him and Malik quickly blinked his glassy lavender eyes, shaking his head fiercely once as though to clear it.

"N-no," he stammered, widening those eyes innocently but Bakura only looked smugly at his expression, seeing through it easily.

"Its fine, I know you'll come around to beg me eventually," he teased with an obnoxious wink that made Malik shudder and glare at the same time.

"Don't hold your breath, because I don't plan to any time soon," he retorted, turning to his motorcycle and actually hopping on this time. Bakura didn't wait for an invitation, chuckling in his light yet ominous way as he jumped on behind, making a point to slide his arms around his ride's waist as sensually as possible before lacing his hands together against Malik's stomach in a snug embrace.

"Define _soon_," He murmured provocatively in Malik's ear and practically felt him swallow before he revved the engine, taking off to avoid answering.

They sped into the evening breeze, letting it whip away the sound of Bakura's cruel laughter, scattering it across the parking lot that left no one to witness their strange confrontation.

**A/N: There, a little less cutesy, and a little more...shall I say...Bakura-savvy ;) Next chapter takes it from the top of the scene again only we get to find out what the other couple was up to while Malik was getting teased! Let's just say it involves less teasing and more action ;)**


	16. Touch  Me

**A/N: Oh goodness, look at me, posting yet another ridiculously long Deathshipping-focused chapter...eh, hope you all enjoy it at least! Warning: Some limey stuff blah, blah, blah, hey, it's already rated T, what am I wasting my time writing a warning for? There's about a million hints about Ryou's past during this chapter, so I'll be interested to see if anyone can guess what I'm planning for his backstory, up until now only one person has been able to! **

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

Ryou watched as Bakura and Malik stole away to the smaller side parking lot that Malik had used for privacy sake, cherishing his bike too much to park it where it might get scratched by other drivers.

Watching them cuddle through the entire game was possibly the most adorable thing he'd ever seen, not that he'd ever tell Bakura or even Malik that. He wasn't sure exactly why Bakura had suddenly decided to be so demandingly obvious with his crush, or why Malik had chosen to respond, but it must be whatever was in the air that made Mariku kiss him earlier.

The mere memory made him blush happily, avoiding the doubt that tried to suck him down. Tonight was not a night that he would let doubt get the better of him, no, definitely not. Tonight _would_ be different because it was Mariku's birthday and he owed him that much for rescuing him in true hero fashion from those doubts that pulled at the very ground beneath him.

Mariku didn't even know how much he had already healed inside him...old wounds that had never been able to scar over the way the ones Mariku had left did. Ones that he'd never told anyone but Bakura about...the real reason for all his irrational fears.

Now that his years of trial under Mariku's terror and his own fear concerning him had faded, he felt guilty thinking that Mariku was right for not understanding his insecurities. How could he understand when Ryou had left him to assume that his fear was over Mariku, not of so much more?

He needed to know one day, and on that day hopefully he would understand...but that day was not today, and Ryou wasn't ready to talk about it anyways. There was too much room for hurt there.

He sighed happily, watching as Bakura bumped Malik's hip with his own, leaning in to whisper in his ear while still holding hands like a real couple. Utterly adorable...turning to face Mariku he couldn't help thinking even if it was the cutest thing he'd ever seen, it certainly wasn't the hottest.

Mariku raised a golden eyebrow at him, informing him that his suspicion that he was blushing ten shades of unhealthy magenta was probably correct. That was the least of his problems though as he felt his eyes being snared by those deep soul sucking, heart stealing, purple eyes that held nothing short of amusement.

The worst part was that even those couldn't hold him as his eyes slowly dropped all the way down his chest to stare at the lower half of the football uniform that consisted of extremely tight white pants. Ryou felt his mouth go cotton dry and he yanked his eyes away again before he could do something really stupid and even more obvious.

Not that the smug expression on Mariku's face said he minded very much.

"So?" he asked, low voice snapping Ryou out of trance and he jumped a little, glancing back up into Mariku's face guiltily. He hadn't even heard him ask a question!

"Yes...?" Ryou replied nervously as Mariku grinned, catching him in the act of paying more attention to his body than his words.

A deep teasing chuckle came from his chest and he leaned forward asking in a sultry tone, "Do you even know what you just agreed to?"

This time Ryou had to stare at the ground with shame flitting across his expression before saying meekly, "Not exactly."

"What if you just sold yourself body and soul to the devil himself?" Mariku asked, reaching out to curl his finger under Ryou's chin, lifting it up so that he could see those milk chocolate eyes that had been all but undressing him eagerly all of thirty seconds ago.

If only he knew how seductive he looked when he lowered his gaze so torturously slowly...it made Mariku shiver pleasurably just thinking about it. He didn't even think about the way his suggestive words would affect Ryou's fear instinct seeing as he had been doing so well today, and it was so easy for Mariku's eager mind to forget about it entirely in times like this.

The trembling under his hand reminded him immediately though and he quickly pulled back, frowning as the blush faded from Ryou's cheeks, eyes wide with panic, skipping straight over the dazed, frozen stage.

As soon as Mariku released him, rather than calming down his lips parted soundlessly, breathing quickly as he took a step back.

"I wasn't being serious," Mariku reminded him with an impatient sigh, since patience got him nowhere with Ryou's stubborn fear. "All I asked was if you wanted a ride home since the brat ditched us for 'Kura, since apparently he's your brother's bitch now. I swear if they're hooking up when we get home..." Mariku growled that last unfinished promise, tone darkening with many evil intentions though he quickly shook it off.

Strangely this somehow seemed to make Ryou feel better, the whitette letting out a shaky breath as he too shook off his sudden trembling spell. He hated to see Mariku hiding his hurt with impatience, because he could still see it on his face sometimes, wondering why Ryou simply couldn't forgive him for what he'd done wrong, not knowing that he mostly had.

It was just in the moment when he made reference to someone forcibly taking advantage of his helpless body...memories of Mariku's silken voice painting such stories vividly in front of his young eyes after seeing it himself came rushing in cruelly, blocking out common sense for a time.

When Mariku abandoned that line though, reminding Ryou yet again that this was Mariku and no one else, someone who loved him deeply or at the very least adored him, it was easier and easier to come back to himself.

"So?" Mariku asked again, smirking slightly this time as he saw that he actually had Ryou's attention in a less provocative way. Catching his reference immediately, Ryou fought the heat rising in his cheeks, trying desperately to harness some of Bakura's wild pride he constantly tried to teach his sweet but meek twin.

"S-sorry...I mean sure, err, yes. Yes, I'd like a ride home...to your home," Ryou clarified, stuck between apologizing for his forwardness and agreeing to Mariku's offer. Mariku just rolled his eyes and grabbed Ryou's hand, dragging Ryou after him Bakura style down the bleachers.

Ryou tripped after him nervously, feeling far too many eyes on them, some with disgust and some with curiosity. After all, Ryou knew better than to mistake what they saw: a delicate girly looking boy with long strange hair and a football jock who appeared to be gay which was a perversion of every stereotype in existence.

Mariku literally jerked him out of his worries as he hopped down from the last step, his hand locked around Ryou's, pulling him down from the second step awkwardly to the first and nearly straight to the ground except for the sudden second hand bracing his hip.

He staggered for a minute, barely holding to his feet as he threw out a desperate hand to cling to the front of Mariku's jersey tightly. When the world stopped moving and he cracked his cowardly shut eyes open meekly he found himself staring straight down into Mariku's very close, very amused expression.

"You alright now?" He asked in a low voice and Ryou nodded sheepishly, starting to straighten up cautiously but Mariku removed his hand from his hip, catching his waist with one arm and swinging him down from the three foot step like a child.

Ryou gasped, not in fright, but at the sudden rush of moving air and how tightly he was pressed to Mariku's hot body for a moment. It took him about two second to realize anyone watching would have seen the football captain sweep him down from the bleachers so romantically after gallantly saving him...

Or so it would seem.

"Come on then," Mariku urged as though such a 'romantic' gesture was no big deal for him. Sadly, Ryou noted that it probably wasn't. Stopping he glared at Mariku's larger, stronger hand that was tugging him along by his wrist like an unruly child, suddenly irritated by the gesture rather than wooed.

Mariku, feeling Ryou suddenly become deadweight, turned around with a curious expression on his face that melted immediately into a discontented frown when Ryou pulled his hand out of the grip he had on it.

"What's wrong?" he asked, reaching for the elusive hand again which Ryou held behind his back with an immature pout on his face. "Ryou," Mariku whined, trying to win him over through petulance, "I thought you said we were on a" –

"We are," Ryou interrupted, speaking up for the first time in a cryptic tone.

"So why can't I hold your" –

"You can." Before Mariku could try and struggle that one out, Ryou took a step forward and Mariku immediately took the practically offered opportunity to make another grab for the hand held against the small of his back.

This time Ryou let him have it, pleasing Mariku up until he tried to fold his own hand around it, only to have it whipped away again.

Most stereotypical jocks would have continued in the simple approach or given up.

Bakura would have walked away and forced the 'game master' to choose which was more important to him.

Malik would have demanded to know what the 'game' was all about and not bothered playing.

Mariku cocked his head slightly, blond spikes swaying to one side as he narrowed his eyes, much like a cat playing a game with a particularly tricky mouse.

He made two more failed lunges at different angles while his eyes stayed locked on Ryou's small enticingly flirtatious smile before finally sliding in from behind so that as soon as their palms lay flat together and their wrists crossed, he could twine his fingers through Ryou's, holding firm.

He tensed, waiting expectantly for Ryou to try pulling away again, or to panic, but this time the whitette's smile grew with a childish happiness, since he had of course wanted Mariku to ultimately be triumphant in the playful exchange.

Making a contented noise, Ryou moved closer so that their shoulders brushed, hands swinging pendulum like between them so that his romantic intention couldn't be missed.

Mariku looked down curiously, blinking once at the image of stark white fingers twisting between and over top his dark skin, making pure dazzling trails against it. When he looked up again, a lazy grin sprawled across his face in a playfully flirtatious manner as he looked over at Ryou who smiled shyly back.

"You know, you could have just said that's what you wanted," Mariku commented with a small exasperated chuckle as Ryou started walking forward impatiently, forcing him to follow him. Not literally forced since, especially with his football pads still on, Mariku was twice Ryou's size and strength, but through the magnetic force Ryou had always used to pull Mariku after him unintentionally.

"That wouldn't have been as much fun though," Ryou replied in a lightly teasing and definitively flirtatious manner, even tossing Mariku a wink over his shoulder, brushing back his long white tresses almost girlishly.

Mariku gave a small equally flirtatious growl in agreement, taking two quick steps to bring him right up beside Ryou, nearly pressed against him so that he could lean in mid step and land a nibbling kiss to the pressure point behind his ear.

Ryou let out a small shocked gasp, stumbling over his own feet as he came to a halt in front of the car before clamping his mouth shut again and tightening his fingers around Mariku's automatically. Feeling Ryou freeze, even just in his steps, Mariku immediately pulled back with a small frustrated groan.

"You're killing me, Ryou," He said in his ear with just the right breathless hopelessness to make Ryou shiver at the romantic implications. Mariku squeezed his hand once, and then released him, disappearing to his side of the car.

Ryou blinked, surfacing from his sappy daze just in time to see Mariku throwing his bag in the back.

Feeling mild guilt, though if he thought about it, it really wasn't logical, Ryou stammered, "S-sorry." Mariku looked up curiously, placing his helmet on the top of the car, quickly followed by the sound of fabric sliding on fabric as he stripped off his jersey, leaving only the pads.

"Sorry for what? I didn't mean that it was a bad thing that you're killing me slowly. Even if it's hard sometimes, getting there is half the fun," Mariku said with a suggestive grin as though this was normal over-the-car talk, accented by the ripping of Velcro coming undone.

Off came the pads and any response Ryou meant to make was utterly obliterated from his mind not to mention his jaw was slack open so he couldn't have formed one anyways. From his hips to the top of his head Mariku's sweaty muscular torso was completely exposed and Ryou felt like his eyes were swimming in pure lust at the arousing sight.

How do you breathe again? Inhale...exhale...exhale again? No, wait, oh God he needed to stop staring but he also needed to swallow all the saliva accumulating in his mouth.

It couldn't have been more than twenty seconds of standing and staring as Mariku folded the pads and put them on the roof of the car with his helmet but Ryou spent the whole tortured time stuck between wanting to staunch the sudden lust gushing inside of him in an almost shameful way or simply stand there marvelling at the lavishly sculpted _man_ in front of him.

Mariku finally broke the spell himself as he turned to look at Ryou curiously once again, making the whitette realize vaguely that he hadn't even responded to his flirty statement.

When their eyes met Mariku took one look at his expression and smirked slyly, asking seductively, "Like something you see?" Ryou flushed hot pink with mixed shame, guilt and barely controllable desire.

In the end he did what he was best as: he dove into the car and shut the door behind him, effectively sealing himself off from Mariku and his sculpted body for at least a couple seconds where he could breathe normally.

Not quite enough to block out the sound of Mariku's dryly amused chuckle to his guilty reaction.

All too soon Mariku's door was opening and he was sliding into the driver's seat, tossing his pads and shirt into the back like it was no big deal. Since when was it no big deal to look like _that?_

It wasn't even fair of him to get into the confined space so close to Ryou, leaving him no escape, looking that way with skin tight pants that made him look so...and all the lines of his hard sought muscles pushing up against his taught dark skin that still glistened with half dried sweat from his not long over game...and the line of his hip protruding above his waist band, leaving no room for any excess fat...and the whole thing was just dry heave worth.

In fact Ryou wasn't sure he wasn't panting right now, because he was definitely begining to get hot for reasons he struggled to admit, even in his own mind. As he stared, deep in lust over ever muscle and skin fibre and heated fantasy, Mariku held completely still, letting his 'innocent' eyes rake over him ravenously.

Internally he quivered a bit, a little nervous but also feeling his confidence rise with each second that ticked by with Ryou's eyes still on him. From his reaction both times now, Mariku gathered he certainly liked _something_ he saw quite a bit.

Catching one of his pale hands in his and lifting it up to examine it briefly under the overhead light, Ryou startled from his staring contest with Mariku's body and caught his breath slightly as though noticing for the first time that he'd been caught in the not-so-glorious act.

Working his knotted tongue slowly, after swallowing hard, he tried to make an apology form but the same way his tongue failed him when he first caught sight of Mariku's bare torso, it also did so now as he spun helplessly into his deep mauve eyes that stared back seriously.

"You can touch me, if you want to."

The words took Ryou completely by surprise even though his brain informed him that they were said in Mariku's deep voice and out of his lips in a completely serious way though that didn't seem possible.

"W-what? I mean...N-no, I shouldn't," Ryou stammered, finally managing to make half baked words come out of his mouth, pulling his hand back from Mariku's. What was wrong with him today? Staring and gawking over him and, in all honesty, undressing him with his eyes even while Mariku just sat there and...and he _did_ just sit there.

It wasn't like he had complained or disliked it, if anything he seemed to be enjoying himself though now he just shrugged and turned to start the ignition, oblivious to Ryou's longingly desirous gaze.

Just as his key clicked into place and he began to turn it, the most shocking sensation of two cool hands stroking down his bare chest struck him like lightning. He was frozen for a moment, and then slowly pulled back his arms so that Ryou's suddenly brave hands had better access to lightly tease the skin of his pectorals and massage his six pack deeply enough to coax a startled, husky moan out of him.

At the sound, Ryou pulled back as though the hot skin under his greedy hands suddenly burned him, eyes wide with shock. Internally Mariku begged, _keep going, please, please, you can't stop now! _But he bit down on his tongue painfully, knowing that losing himself in the lust would likely scare Ryou right out of his car.

Quickly the most blistering part of the heat faded so that only the less sharp parts of their desire remained, though the pounding in Ryou's heart reminded him that it had in fact happened.

"I...Did I just do that?" the sweet innocent whitette asked, pale face soft with the dazedly surprised look he wore that was completely contrasting to the hungry look he had before that had been so powerful it made Mariku wonder if Ryou simply wanted to devour him whole.

"You definitely did it, I felt it," Mariku said after a moment and Ryou looked at him strangely for a moment then, as it evidently sunk in, he groaned loudly, palming his face in frustration at his lack of self control. To be fair he had never experienced anything like that before and definitely never imagined that his own sexual desires could be so...sinfully persuasive.

Muffling his face with his hands, after several moments of nearly ripping his own hair out in disbelief at his own lusting actions, he finally asked in a pathetic voice with his eyes still hidden, "Please put on a shirt before I do something worse."

Mariku chuckled quietly, proud and a bit smug that he had broken through to Ryou's sexual side, which he had always known must exist somewhere. It didn't hurt that he knew for a fact that Ryou had never let it come out with anyone else before, which had to say something.

Whether it was that he was starting to trust him or because he simply liked him too much to resist didn't particularly matter to Mariku.

Maybe he wasn't mister sensitive and belittled the situation but he knew when something was good –especially when it felt _that_ good. He figured he had pushed Ryou far enough for one 'date' though, and obligingly reached into the back to grab his shirt and slide it back on easily.

"Don't worry about it, you can touch me anytime you want," He assured Ryou flirtatiously and the whitette attempted valiantly to muster some of the pride Bakura constantly tried to shove down his throat.

Despite the heated blush in his cheeks, his eyes didn't have that glazed over look and he sat straight. More than anything he spent the ride to Mariku's house trying to conquer his own disbelief and embarrassments at his own actions.

He had _never_ done something like that before, so why had it happened now?

Inside his mind, doubts swirled, mostly circulating the fear that he would push Mariku away with his seesawing emotions that ranged from extreme fear to, evidently, extreme lust. It had been pleasurable though...and Mariku wasn't the type to hold back his opinion if it was negative...God, why was he so incredible?

Ryou wondered depressively why Mariku didn't just move on to someone better who wouldn't put him through so many awkward situations. For some inexplicable reason Mariku wanted _him_ though, enough that he believed it was love, and Ryou had to admit there was moments where he too wanted to believe it was, _did_ believe it.

The concept made him all warm on the inside, so long as he pushed away all the things that came with it, a smile working its way onto his face. Of course there was nothing to worry about right now, Mariku had promised to wait because he liked him, probably even loved him, the random groping wouldn't bother him. He'd even said as much.

Ryou shook his head at himself, silently pleased at his ability to rationalize away the doubt. This time two months ago he would have been paralyzed by the situation, poisoned by his fear of past experiences, but now...there was a new sense of trust, something he had never been able to have with anyone before.

The irony that it came through Mariku who had made his original 'problem' worse only to make it so much better now wasn't lost to Ryou who rather enjoyed the righteousness of the situation.

In fact by the time Mariku pulled up in the driveway which was suspiciously lacking in Malik's motorcycle, Ryou was actually feeling good about the situation. Cutting the engine, Mariku turned to look at him hopefully, seeing the contented look on his face and wondering if it was safe to try pushing his luck again.

"Looks like 'Kura and the brat aren't back yet so I don't have to an excuse to kill either of them," he said in mock disappointment, giving Ryou a sly look, "Hug for condolence sake?"

Ryou looked surprised at the request but blinked it away to quickly reply, "O-of course you can. It's your birthday." Mariku frowned at what he mistook for a purely nervous tone, missing the excitement mixed in.

To be fair Ryou wasn't usually the enthusiast of their 'romantic' attempts.

"It's not the same if you're not enjoying yourself," Mariku said slowly, fighting the part of himself that wanted to tell Ryou to suck it up and make out with him. Slow and gentle was the game with Ryou; he knew it would be worth the wait in the end.

Ryou stared into his eyes, feeling like he was drowning because the air wasn't flowing properly in his lungs but it felt pretty good which didn't make sense.

"No I...I want to," he said breathlessly and Mariku looked confused, obviously not reading the same things into the situation that Ryou was. Growing frustrated, Ryou fussed internally trying to find the right words and actually make them come out.

"Mariku, I want you to hold me," he managed coherently and Mariku finally seemed to understand that Ryou was talking about more than a hug, quickly pulling him into his arms and feeling a sappy contentment well up inside at the feeling of Ryou's arms winding around his neck.

It still killed him that he'd gotten so soft, something Bakura would never let him forget, but as long as it was only with Ryou it didn't matter much.

Mariku felt that familiar smug contentedness that he'd come to appreciate as it appeared more frequently these days during Ryou's subtle, and sometimes less subtle, romantic hints. It was difficult for Mariku to keep up, he'd never been one to read into things for a deeper meaning, living more in the material world rather than the philosophical but it paid to listen careful to Ryou's words.

With him each carefully selected dialect could mean something different, like the way he agreed for Mariku to _hold_ him not to _hug_ him. Mariku never asked directly what he meant, he wasn't that soft yet, but he suspected that Ryou was trying to say that he wanted to be, and was, closer to Mariku than a simple hug.

Even Mariku, who wasn't big on the whole romance thing, knew there was something more potent about holding someone over merely hugging them.

After all, no one was oblivious enough to think they were trying to move towards friendship, the struggle between them had morphed completely into a mutual struggle for the romantic relationship they craved to share.

When the embrace finally broke apart, Ryou had a goofy smile on his face that wasn't far from the glazed fearful look he sometimes donned but that this one was much more attractive. Mariku teased him a little but more out of his own cheerfulness than anything else.

Because when Ryou was happy over something he did, it beat out any other type of happiness.

**A/N: Who was totally not expecting Ryou to be the aggressive one? Okay everyone I'm sure, and I'm sure some of you will say that's OOC...but personally I don't think so, even Ryou must have a lustful side somewhere deep down. And if you're a Deathshipping fan you probably agree that Mariku could make most people's resistance melt with his looks ;)**


	17. Sinister Seduction

**A/N: Now things start to become more about the thiefshipping! Hm, I've planned out exactly what happens for the rest of the story, now I just need to find the time and motivation to write it...hopefully I'll be able to keep up my weekly updating schedule for you guys :)**

***Edit: Alright so I made a mistake in my Japanese terminology which apparently bothered people quite a bit so I thought I'd come back and fix it. Sorry to anyone getting an update who thinks this is a brand new chapter xD**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

The motorcycle turned into the driveway and Malik immediately cut the engine.

"Off," he said bluntly and Bakura couldn't help laughing cruelly as he hopped down, watching smugly as Malik dismounted next a little shakily.

"Feeling alright?" He asked in a teasingly sweet voice, and Malik glared back at him though there was an element of panic about his face that he couldn't quite hide.

"I-I'm fine," he stammered irritably, stomping away towards the house, leaving his guest behind as rudely as he dared. Bakura didn't mind, delighted by the situation in general as he strolled after his runaway blond lazily.

Malik had gotten increasingly tense and uncomfortable throughout the ride and it took Bakura about ten seconds to figure out that his body was having a rather 'unfortunate' reaction to having Bakura pressed up against him so provocatively.

Of course, Bakura was incredibly smug over the situation and doing nothing to help by breathing down the other boy's neck seductively. He wasn't really surprised that Malik tried to deny it even if they both knew the truth, but he wondered, as always, what was going through his confused head now.

How would he deal with his body's reaction to having another man so close? Not well most likely, but again Bakura just scoffed the thought away. Teenage angst like this held no concern for him.

If there was one thing he didn't lack, it was confidence in himself.

He tried to doorknob and was a little surprised to find that it was locked. Narrowing his eyes he realized that the kid had immaturely locked him out.

Unfortunately he had forgotten one key thing: Bakura was a Thief King, extremely practiced at hiding it, but very much a thief at heart. An excellent one at that, no locked door was going to keep him out.

Circling around to the side of the house, he found the perfect target –one of those huge old living room windows that were cranked open and locked on the outside. Pulling out his pocket knife he ran a finger along the flat of the blade fondly before going to work on the lock.

He was almost disappointed there wasn't more of a challenge; this lock was so old it wouldn't take more than a minute to break in.

Glancing inside mildly curiously at the sound of laughter, he saw Mariku and Ryou sitting on the floor up against one of the two sofas, surrounded by a pile of movies. Ryou was delving through them with a childish amusement while Mariku merely watched looking relaxed.

Malik was conveniently nowhere to be seen, Bakura noted dryly.

He couldn't help scowling when Ryou all but dove into Mariku's lap, holding one of the movies up with a pleading look on his face. He appeared to be asking something about it and Mariku nodded with a smile (a sickeningly soft one in Bakura's opinion) and Ryou looked well pleased at the response.

Their cuteness was so sugary Bakura could gag just from watching. A thought struck him that distracted him from his internal mockery of their 'relationship', even as the window lock clicked open.

Were Ryou and Mariku even dating?

Ryou had claimed they were on a date tonight to distract Pegasus, but one date didn't institute a relationship. They had been building up to...something, but it was hard to say where they were at or what level of official it was.

Forcing the window open with one hand, it creaked loudly to announce his arrival and they both turned as Bakura swung through the window easily, enjoying the strain it put on his muscles to lift himself up and in. He hadn't had enough reason to use them lately.

"Should I ask?" Mariku questioned with a raised eyebrow at the same moment that Malik turned round the corner, looking taken aback to see Bakura wielding a knife, silhouetted by the open window behind him.

"The kid thought it was funny to lock me out," Bakura said simply after a moment, turning away to crank the window shut with powerful strokes, the harsh rattle of the glass the only indication of his irritation. As soon as it shut he turned quickly, red eyes flashing wrathfully.

Malik caught the glare with just enough time to spare to look nervous under that gaze that promised hurt before Bakura's wrist snapped out, sending the knife in his hand whizzing through the air, straight into the couch cushion by Mariku's left shoulder. Mariku flinched a little, giving a small sound of surprise but otherwise made no comment.

"Hopefully he'll learn not to underestimate a thief next time," Bakura said in a cocky tone with a nasty smirk on his lips that revealed rather sharp looking canines. Malik was just about on his last nerve by this point, and he was fairly certain he was going to have a nervous breakdown if the evening continued the way the rest of his day had.

"Hey, take it up with him if you two are having some sort of fucked up lover's spat. You're going to be explaining to Ishizu why there's a new hole in the sofa," Mariku growled irritably, breaking the tension as he yanked the knife free.

"A thief never has to explain himself," Bakura sniffed almost pouting and Malik breathe a silent sigh of relief. Pouting over petty ego matters was a million times better than chucking knives in his general vicinity.

"Besides," Bakura continued casually as he dropped down on the arm of the other sofa that Malik stood next to awkwardly, "That's yours now. Congratulations for surviving another year."

The blunt birthday salutation was in such Bakura style that Malik had to choke back a laugh, ignoring the curious look Ryou gave him as he skirted the sofa to sit in the only chair in the room, casually avoiding both Bakura and the love birds.

Mariku ignored everything except the knife, looking at it with fascinated surprise for a long moment before finally looking at Bakura suspiciously.

"You're actually giving me your B knife?" He asked slowly and Bakura nodded, perfecting the bored uncaring look.

"It's really not promising that you own a 'B' knife," Malik mumbled and Bakura sneered at him, making it very clear that he was not forgiven yet though he pulled from his pocket a second knife, not a folding one this time.

Dark eyes fixed hypnotically on Malik, he ran his tongue along the patterned and polish blade, mouth twisting into a cruel smile.

"_This_ is my number one knife. Do you like it?" He purred to Malik in a manner that had him swallowing even from across the room. He didn't think Bakura would actually hurt him, but there was a delicate mix of seduction and threat in his tone.

Not to mention he'd already seen how good his aim was.

"A knife is a knife, I don't know much about them," Malik said, keeping the weakness out of his voice though he felt his eyes drawn back to the almost artful weapon.

The dark handle curved, dotted with rivets, and the metal tang winked at Malik playfully. Metal, carved with intricate designs, braced both ends of the handle prettily, and from there it curved into the wicked sharp blade that was inverted from the handles curve, drawing to a dangerous point.

The designs along the entire length of the blade were almost sinister in their prettiness. Quite similar to Bakura himself, in a way.

"Whatever you say, kid," Bakura said with a dark chuckle, though his expression was not quite so harsh when their eyes met briefly again. Perhaps Malik's unintentional show of interest and respect for the fine weapon had earned him a little favour back.

Bakura glanced back over to Mariku who was flicking the blade of Bakura's former 'B' knife in and out experimentally with a fond smirk as though remembering many good memories that came with it. Ryou leaned even farther away from him, not looking too happy about Bakura's idea of a gift.

"I finally got around to engraving it for you," Bakura pointed out and Mariku stopped, tilting the blade in its open position to see the engraved words which read: _Don't miss._

The dry humour screamed Bakura's name, but his point was driven home as he added, "If anything ever happens to Ryou, I expect it back."

Mariku nodded slightly, glancing at Ryou as he wondered if he picked up the same thing in Bakura's cryptic gift. In many ways the Touzoku's were alike, both weighting their actions and words with more than was immediately obvious. It was fairly clear, to Mariku at least, that Bakura was giving the knife as a blessing of sorts –and a warning.

"N-no need to be using knives," Ryou said nervously, eyeing the blade in Mariku's hand.

Bakura rolled his eyes, but calmed down his brother as he said, "Don't worry, that knife has never caused anyone to bleed dry before."

Malik shivered at the words, seeing the way Bakura flipped his number one knife around his hand easily without even looking at it. He couldn't help seeing something sinisterly seductive there though. Sensing the looks he was getting, Bakura stopped the knife's spinning pattern, holding it still in his hand while turning to look at Malik with burning eyes.

Apparently he liked whatever he saw because he tossed the younger Ishtar, who remained his love interest despite his offence earlier, a wink, kissing the blade promisingly.

Malik flushed but was unable to stop his mouth from opening as he asked helplessly, "Has that knife ever killed anyone?" Bakura's eyes widened mock innocently, tracing the tip of his cherished blade around his lips, whispering a 'shh' against the metal slyly.

Mariku took one look at the indirectly freaked out Ryou and scoffed, saying, "I don't care how good you are 'Kura, but not even you can get away with murder."

Bakura grinned but admitted, "I cannot say I haven't sinned, but I am not guilty of murder. I prefer putting people in comas."

"That was one time," Mariku insisted, sniping at his ego uselessly. It was already swollen from Malik's due attention that he would never admit to craving like sweet candy. Letting it go, Mariku clasped the knife shut and slid it into his pocket, turning his gaze to his brother for the first time.

"You promised me a present, brat?" He questioned lazily and Malik gave him a cheeky smirk in response.

"You thought I wouldn't be able to get it, I recall," He replied and Mariku raised a surprised eyebrow in cautious flattery.

"You actually got it all?"

"Of course," Malik responded proudly, jumping up to walk over to a closet by the front door, lugging out several cases of beer and dropping them on the floor by Mariku. His hands went to his hips as he looked down at his brother smugly.

"Rishid never noticed a thing," He said gleefully and Mariku grinned despite the guilt Ryou was wriggling into him through his disapproving stare.

"How'd you get them?" Bakura finally broke in and both brothers, looking strangely alike at the moment, turned to look at him.

Exchanging a glance, Mariku finally said, "Our nii-san, Rishid, works at an LCBO on weekends. Malik picks him up sometimes from work and he said he'd nick some for tonight without Rishid noticing. I didn't think he could do it."

"Note that I managed to fill three cases," Malik added and Bakura glanced between what did appear to be three cases full of beer, not the cheap kind either, and the smug younger Ishtar.

Of all the things Bakura had admired thus far about Malik, he had never picture him as a thief, though he had the build and the brains if he didn't let his smartass pride get in the way. It couldn't have been easy filling three cases a couple bottles at a time right under his nee-san's nose.

Bakura looked him up and down again before saying in a slightly impressed tone, "You never fail to surprise me, kid."

Looking annoyed to be cheated of his just rewards, Malik's cheeky expression twitched into a scowl snapping, "Don't call me kid to cover up the fact that you're impressed."

Bakura's eyebrow shot up, sensing a challenge and leaning forward with his chin on the back of his hand as he appraised him again with flashing garnet eyes.

"But _Malik_ who ever said I was impressed?" He asked in a purposefully lusty voice, putting Malik at a disadvantage. The other held his ground though, not even flinching though his lavender eyes narrowed at Bakura's pretentiousness.

"If you're the incredible _Thief King_ everyone thinks you are, then I would think thievery from someone you likely consider an amateur would be seen as at least mildly impressive," Malik explained sharply in his uppity smartass tone that never failed to grate on Bakura's nerves.

To be fair, he only got into his 'I'm-a-freaking-genius-don't-act-like-you-know-more-than-me' mood when Bakura went after him first, but Bakura was also a little biased. To his surprise, Malik didn't stop there. He had an ace up his sleeve and he planned to use it, even if it was risky.

"And I know you _are_ the Thief King, despite my moments of doubt. I see the kleptomaniac gleam in your eye," Malik said in a much more casual voice that only increased Bakura's suspicion, "It's there every time you look at me. Sometimes I could swear you want to steal the pants right off of me."

Mariku made a sound of surprise but it was Ryou who couldn't hold back his laughter at the purposeful jibe. Bakura appraised the three of them, deciding in his own time how to respond. One glance at Ryou had him at least attempting to stifle his laughter, and when Mariku caught his eye a rueful grin flickered across his face as he saw the look that said Malik had just walked into another trap.

What none of them knew was that Malik had stumbled into it on purpose.

**A/N: The battle of wits has begun again, who will be victorious? I also referenced putting people into comas in this chapter, although this is obviously completely AU, I just had to put that little hint from season 0 in there just because I love that anime/part of the manga so much xD**


	18. Champion

**A/N: I know I normally update on Tuesdays, but the egomaniac authoress in me hates the beginning of the month when all the hits drop to zero and the graph looks so...empty...so I waited until the first 1****st**** just so the ratings would jump right away xD However, even though it is late I hope you all still enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

Locking eyes with his crush that clearly thought he had come up with the perfect retort, Bakura replied casually, "I have to say I was a bit impressed by your little work of thievery at first. A thief that proves to be all their cracked up to be is impressive enough but there's nothing sexier than a thief so subtle no one knows of his existence beyond the discovery of his deeds."

The innuendo towards his own 'secret identity' was barely concealed and completely obvious as his blank expression turned into a predatory stare, sliding down from the arm of the couch to stand fluidly so Malik could no longer stand over him.

Even from a couple paces away, Malik knew he was in trouble. The scary thing was that he liked it.

The sense of thrilling apprehension was like a masochistic euphoria that constantly drew him to the darker Touzoku without fail. Raising his hand, thankfully knife-less, Bakura crooked one finger with a very persuasive _come hither_ smirk that Malik found himself unable to resist.

"Come on," Bakura said sweetly, a playful hint of danger in his voice. Or maybe that was Malik's conscience trying to stop him from abiding, and failing completely. He found himself dragging his feet across the several feet of floor space between the two sofas in their loosely L shaped position.

His heart beat demanded attention in his chest and his curiosity ran rampant while Bakura continued in that innocent tone, "Come on, a little closer."

He dug his heels in a pace away, resisting that seductive stare though his face felt warm and he wondered miserably if he was blushing. Bakura's expression sharpened, upping the danger level and increasing the adrenaline surging through Malik's body as the lily white hand lowered, leaning back against the sofa arm casually.

"A little closer," he insisted and Malik tried to frown though he felt too dazed to move his facial muscles more than a millimetre. He tried to say no instead but his vocal chords weren't working either.

"Come on," Bakura repeated, tone once again purring, those eyes burning hypnotically down at the slightly shorter Ishtar. "I know you want to know what I'm thinking, but it's a secret. You have to come closer," he insisted and Malik found himself nodding slightly, moving so close that Bakura could have kissed him if he wanted to.

Given recent implications, he was a little scared that he would. He was even more scared that he wanted him to, _badly._

"Arms around my neck," Bakura ordered, expression growing a little smugger as he saw that he had Malik completely snared. Seeing him hesitate he added, "Only if you want to know, that is."

Like a puppet Malik swallowed, then slid his arms dazedly around Bakura's neck, forced to tilt his head back to look him in the eyes now. Oh this was so going to end with them making out, and Malik was pretty sure he didn't have the strength to resist right now.

Chuckling quietly and rocking forward so that Malik's body lined up softly against his own, Bakura put one arm possessively around his waist and trailed the knuckles of the other from his shoulder blade to his waist.

Over his crush's shoulder he grinned at Mariku who was stuck somewhere between disapproving and entertained, knowing this was not going to end well for his brother.

"So you said something about me wanting to steal the pants right off of you before, hm?" Bakura murmured in his ear lustily, flipping the tail of his school jacket up to wrap seductive fingers around his belt just to make his point clear.

Malik's breath hitched and he seemed to realize for the first time that he was in a very _bad_ situation.

"Well here's a pointer from one thief to another: if when I 'steal' them you're begging me to take them off, it doesn't really count as thievery."

Malik went rigid and Bakura laughed wickedly, feeling the indignation just waiting to burst out of him at the flirtatious snipe, but after a short moment, Malik simply pulled his arms back as far as he could, palms splayed flat like a mime.

"Let go," he said quietly and the defeated tone of his voice had all the hairs on the back of Bakura's neck raising like nails on a chalkboard. It was just _wrong._

"What?" Bakura asked suspiciously, leaning back to look at him and Malik averted his gaze, backing up as far as he could which wasn't very as Bakura tightened his grip impatiently on his waist, frown deepening.

"It's nothing," he insisted in that same pathetic tone, "Just let me go."

"Nothing my ass," Bakura said in a blunt dangerous voice to hide his uneasiness, "I hurt your feelings. How the hell did I hurt your feelings?" His tone wavered between sarcastic and confused adding to the uncertainty of the situation.

"You didn't," Malik insisted in a stronger tone though it held none of the scorn or sarcasm it should have –and it was seriously freaking Bakura out, especially because he wasn't sure if he was being paranoid or not.

His eyes slid just a little to the side, catching a glimpse of a sadly concerned looking Ryou and knew it wasn't just him otherwise his brother would be laughing in exasperation. Ryou was a worrier by nature and he always leapt to fix every bad situation.

"Don't," Bakura hissed in warning when Malik moved to remove his hands, waiting for him to disregard the warning entirely with a smartass remark –except he didn't, instead just dropping his hands listlessly.

It was like all the incredible, hot, juicy attitude that was the Malik he was starting to realize he was crazy about had been sucked out of the shell he'd left behind. And that was absolutely unacceptable.

"What is wrong with you?" Bakura demanded, shoving him away as a last resort.

"Nothing," Malik mumbled in a muffled voice, head bowed slightly and Bakura was pretty sure he was losing it. This –was –not –happening. He didn't even do anything wrong! He wasn't delusional enough to think of himself as prince charming or romantic, he wasn't like Ryou, he wasn't cute and cuddly but he was completely lost to what had set off Malik's sudden loss of personality.

All that sexiness was just –gone! Because of one sex joke!

A twisted thought rose in his mind and he desperately tried to banish it but he couldn't help wrestling over it every time he attempted to explain away this strange helplessness on both their parts. He didn't even want to think about what it meant that he was so worried over his impossible crush.

What if something similar to what had happened in his own past had happened to Malik? What if he was secretly like Ryou deep down, where a simple sex joke could set him off like that because of something terrible that had happened to him or he had witnessed? He had never even considered it before...no, he was being paranoid.

"Stop fucking lying," he all but pleaded and at the same moment the words left his lips he was both disgusted and confused by them. Why _did_ he care so much? He had known about this crush forever now, but he'd never expected it could make him act _this_ ridiculous.

Apparently someone agreed because he heard a snicker. A very familiar snicker, he noted with a sinking heart, glaring down at Malik whose head was conveniently bowed to the floor.

"Malik..." he growled just as the snicker started to build into a fuller laugh, and finally the blond boy threw back his head back, laughing helplessly with his lavender eyes sparkling mischievously in true Malik style.

It took about two seconds into hearing his laughter for Bakura to make the connection: he, yes _he_ the infamous Thief King, had been played like a lovesick fool.

The thought stunned him and would bother him to no end over the days to come, but at the moment it was more of an epiphany than anything else. He could only stare at Malik who was at the height of his prettiness when he laughed like that; flashing his cheeky grin left right and centre.

Blond hair on tan skin, soft lavender eyes next to a smug grin, he was all contradictions from his very appearance to each word out of his mouth. One hundred percent infuriating and one hundred percent interesting...always one hundred percent of that 'sexiness' that defined Ishtar Malik.

It didn't take Malik long to figure out something was off with Bakura either. He tilted his head curiously, still grinning even as his laughter faded away breathlessly. Of course he had been a little hurt over Bakura's 'harmless little sex joke' since it reminded him that Bakura wasn't really 'into' relationships, and it made him wonder at the level of his own feelings...but as soon as Bakura started over reacting he had to get his revenge, and was it ever sweet.

He wondered if Bakura himself could hear the nervous edge to his voice. Right now he just looked...strange. As in, really, _really_ strange_._ The harsh edge to his features except for the natural lean look had faded somewhat, his lips parted slightly in shock and the weirdest part –the best part mind you –was that beneath his wild fluffy white locks, the alabaster skin of his cheeks were turning a rich crimson red as the blood flooded to them.

The great Thief King Touzoku-sama was _blushing._ For one moment, there was a brief lull in the laws of nature and Bakura, blush and all, opened his mouth and said in a horrified voice, "I'm getting as pathetic as Mariku."

The words snapped the pleasant haze, causing Malik to burst out laughing and Bakura to begin glaring spiteful, realizing the full extent of what had happened. Damn it all, this little crush thing was getting out of control.

"Malik, if don't stop laughing in about" –Bakura's threatening words were cut short as Mariku interrupted in loud demanding voice.

"Alright, both of you need to calm down and have something to drink. I'm not going to spend my birthday mopping up your blood bath," he commanded, and Bakura immediately regained his sense of balance.

The order of the universe had momentarily been thrown out of place when he and Malik switched places but it was nothing a little alcohol and some well voiced sarcastic comments wouldn't amend. Gesturing with one hand he motioned for Mariku to toss him a bottle and quickly had his request granted.

Even Ryou didn't look perturbed by the consumption that was evidently going to happen tonight –possibly because he himself was already drinking or because anything was less disturbing than seeing Bakura blush.

**A/N: I know, I know, some of you are going to say, 'Bakura would never blush!' But I just couldn't resist the idea of such a reversal in their roles and several people said it would be funny if Malik could win an argument for once so I thought, what the heck, might as well give it a shot! Please don't kill me...also I realize the ending was abrupt but I didn't want to give anything away for the goodness that's coming next chapter ;) Please review?**


	19. Birthday Kiss

**A/N: *Phew* Managed to get it ready for today! I'll try to be ready again for next week's update and then over Christmas break I'll write ahead as far as I can so that my updates won't disappear over the month of death and exams...AKA January x_X Anyways, if, by chance, next week's chapter is late, then hopefully this one will make up for it despite its short length ;)**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

Returning to the couch he and Ryou had been leaning back against, Mariku seated himself comfortably on the cushions after distributing some alcohol to his even more underage brother.

"Now, let's watch this movie before we're all too smashed to see Malik crying like a little girl," Mariku announced enthusiastically. Malik shot him a dirty look though he glanced nervously towards the case sitting on the coffee table ominously, no doubt wondering what Ryou could have picked that would make him 'cry'.

Knowing Ryou it was probably a Disney movie with talking furniture...speaking of Ryou, the sweet whitette picked himself up off the ground quickly, setting aside his barely-touched bottle in favour of sitting shyly close to Mariku, putting one hand on his knee quietly.

"You never asked for my present," he pointed out when Mariku gave him a questioning look, surprised that Ryou was putting his hands anywhere near him with Bakura and Malik in the room.

"I didn't think you'd get me anything," Mariku said bluntly, though childish curiosity began to change his expression. "_Did _you get me something?" He added as an afterthought and Ryou smiled shyly, looking up at him from under his lashes flirtatiously.

"Not really...I just wondered if maybe you might like a kiss for your birthday," he offered quietly, a nervously choked giggle coming out when he saw the way Mariku's jaw dropped in shock.

Whatever he thought he might get for his birthday from Ryou it was definitely _not_ that.

Bakura made a small sound somewhere between mocking surprise and scoffing while Malik raised an impressed eyebrow. Maybe Ryou and Mariku really had made some distance, like Mariku kept insisting.

Shutting his mouth again, Mariku licked his lips uncertainly, dark eyes flickering between Ryou's willing expression, and his pouty pink lips.

"I...would like that," he admitted and Ryou's smile glowed a little more at the response. No matter how many times, or ways, Mariku showed his affection, it still sent a pleasant thrill through him every time.

Ryou shifted his hand a little on his knee, moving to be in a better position for his 'gift giving' while Mariku raised an uncertain hand to caress his round cheek.

"Ryou if you don't want" –he started grudgingly, seeing Ryou hesitate, but those warm brown eyes became lidded, a blush rising in his pale cheeks at Mariku's almost gentle touch.

"I want to," he whispered, cutting Mariku off and leaning in slowly, glancing up at Mariku nervously only a couple times before pressing his mouth against the other boys in a drawn out luscious fashion.

It was moments like this that made Mariku wonder if Ryou purposefully tried to draw these things out to make him as crazy as possible, before teasing his desires perfectly in a move like this.

Knowing the moment could only last so long, Mariku pressed back eagerly, not wanting Ryou's insecurities to surface. Ryou's breath caught at the returned kiss, but obligingly deepened it, parting his soft lips and reaching out shyly with his tongue to catch Mariku's lower lip.

Mariku's first automatic reaction was to open his mouth in entrance –only to dominate Ryou's tongue aggressively with his own, turning what was a sweet innocent kiss into something far more mature.

Luscious, plump lips, a wet tongue that was the perfect mix of passive and playful, and a deep penetratingly delicious taste that filled Mariku's whole mouth in a matter of seconds...so much yummy desire...so much Ryou.

Mariku could just eat him whole.

Maybe in his unprepared surprised he'd gotten a little too aggressive, because Ryou made a small surprised noise –or maybe he'd just realized who he was sharing this subdued yet passionate kiss with. Slowing himself down forcefully, Mariku teased Ryou's lips persuasively, working his mouth around the others, bringing a sweet sound of surprised pleasure from Ryou's mouth.

Pulling back just a little, he broke the kiss to look down at Ryou in a soft mix of desire and adoration. Tilting his head to the side, he felt Ryou sigh sweetly as he leaned in to dip into Ryou's warm mouth again deliciously.

As they continued kissing slowly and romantically, tongues caressing hotly, Mariku knew with all certainty that he could absolutely get used to this.

A gagging noise announced Bakura's boredom with the situation though, and Ryou quickly pulled back, detaching their mouths and backing off a couple inches so that he could stare up into Mariku's eyes dazedly.

"How was that?" Mariku whispered with a growing smirk as Ryou replied breathlessly, "That was good."

He doubted the irony of the fact that it was _Mariku's_ gift was lost on him.

At the same moment, the presence of their audience dawned on both of them, and Ryou edged farther away awkwardly, while Mariku removed his hands from the knotted mess they'd made in his white locks.

"Um...right...the movie...guess I got a little sidetracked," Ryou said sheepishly, attempting to run a hand through his hair, while flushing an embarrassed pink.

He started to stand up, but Mariku, seeing his escape plan, hooked a lazy hand around his hip, jerking him back down with a startled exclamation to the couch, collapsing against Mariku's side conveniently. Struggling to sit back up in confusion, Mariku simply pulled him back down firmly.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked teasingly and Ryou glanced between him and the mixed looks of sceptical boredom from the other two.

"N-nowhere, I guess," he responded meekly, settling back down against Mariku's side shyly. He cuddled up against him amiably; resting his head on the other boy's toned stomach. It was surprisingly comfortable; he couldn't help liking the way his muscles and skin expanded with each breath right beneath him.

"That's right," Mariku said lightly in a pleased tone, tightening his arm around Ryou's waist affectionately before snapping his fingers in his brother and Bakura's direction commandingly. Bakura merely raised an eyebrow, and Mariku rolled his eyes at the lack of response from his proud companions.

"'Kura, put the movie in, I want to see the brat cry. Malik, stop hovering around, sit down and stay down," he ordered, receiving a scoff from Bakura and a scowl from Malik. Of course, 'the brat' who had been most targeted by the demeaning request was first to defend his pride.

"I am _not_ going to cry, not even for you on your birthday, _nii-san,_" he snapped haughtily, adding the title as mockingly as he possibly could. "But if I did get scared, I would make sure to hold hands with Ryou," he added with that cheeky smirk, eyes sharpening as he looked at Mariku's prize, who was curled up under his arm, raising his head curiously at Malik's words.

"Sure, horror movies never scare me," Ryou chirped cheerfully, oblivious to the heated glares both Bakura and Mariku were giving Malik for even suggesting that course of action. In turn, Malik seemed oblivious to those despite the fact that that was what he had been gunning for.

At the words 'horror movie' his expression turned ashen, attempting to conceal the slight panic that flickered there. As interesting as that was, Bakura could tell it was nothing new to Mariku, and he himself was more concerned with this 'holding hands' business.

Standing up as Malik directly crossed his path to walk back over to his chair; he stopped the other boy with one hand to his jaw firmly. Malik jerked back but Bakura simply pinched his cheek painfully, stepping subtly closer to murmur in his ear, "If you do get scared, it will _not_ be Ryou you're holding hands with."

Allowing Malik to process this however he chose to inside his confused head, he snatched up the movie Ryou had selected, inserting it, and managing to get it going before collapsing back on his couch lazily.

On the outside Ryou seemed to be the singing animals and romantic comedy type, but in reality he had a strange fascination with horror; it was his favourite genre. From the very start, which consisted of a little girl stabbing her playmate to death with a dull butter knife while singing about bunnies disturbingly, his eyes were wide, staring transfixed at the screen.

Funny how in reality such things terrified to him with little provocation, but in a movie, it was somehow manageable. Bakura had never been able to figure out quite why, except that Ryou clung to the past lecherously, unable to let go of it, and allowing it to affect everything he did in the present.

The horror movies just seemed like a new level of that.

If the beginning wasn't clue enough, the movie was based more in a psychologically horrific aspect, rather than pure blood and gore. Personally, Bakura had seen too much emotional scarring in his life to find the things that caused it scary or even slightly thrilling.

Really, he only paid full attention to the scenes that had blood in them, but he didn't complain either, because both Ryou and Mariku looked enraptured. Ironic that they could sit there cuddling and enjoying a movie that focused on the very thing that constantly drove them apart.

Malik was still isolated on his side of the small room, facing the TV in a way that stopped Bakura from seeing his expression. At first, Bakura idly wondered if that was on purpose, but he quickly lost interest, since it was impossible to tell either way.

Thoughts of Malik's apparent terror over horror movies quickly faded away, as the movie picked up and Bakura's mind stopped wandering as much. In fact he managed to forget about his pretty little problem entirely until for the first time since the movie had started, he moved.

**A/N: Dun-dun-dun...okay I realize 'he moved' doesn't sound all that epic, but I swear it will be for all of you who have been waiting for some 'real' thiefshipping! xD That's not to say the drawn out flirting between them will be over soon...oh no, there's still A LOT of this story left to go...-_-' But you're reviews make me want to write more and more all the time! Now time, that's something I could use considering writing when I don't have any is proving rather difficult...ah, sorry, rambling, anyways, till next week my lovelies! :D**


	20. To Cuddle or Not to Cuddle?

**A/N: First off: Sorry for missing last week's update! At least now its Christmas break so I *should* have time to work on this story, which is my greatest priority at the moment! I really wanted to get to the next scene in this chapter but I didn't quite finish in time, and even unfinished the word count was over 6, 000. Although I did promise you thiefshipping (and there is certainly some in this chapter) the better stuff begins next chapter, and because I'm mad at myself for not finishing it in time for today, I promise that the next (slightly more flirtatious thiefshipping-wise) chapter will be updated on Christmas as a gift to all of you lovely readers who's reviews make my day every single time!**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

_Malik was still isolated on his side of the small room, facing the TV in a way that stopped Bakura from seeing his expression. At first, Bakura idly wondered if that was on purpose, but he quickly lost interest, since it was impossible to tell either way._

_Thoughts of Malik's apparent terror over horror movies quickly faded away, as the movie picked up and Bakura's mind stopped wandering as much. In fact he managed to forget about his pretty little problem entirely until for the first time since the movie had started, he moved._

Hearing the slight scuff of feet on the carpet, Bakura glanced warily at Ryou and Mariku first, neither of whom had moved, and then accepted grudgingly that it had to be Malik. Hesitating only a moment before giving into his curiosity, he allowed his eyes to slide a fraction over to glare suspiciously at Malik, whose whereabouts became obvious when the other end of the couch he was seated on dipped slightly on one side.

There was only a couple meters space between them now and Bakura couldn't help that it distracted him like an annoying fly.

Malik wasn't seriously considering his hand-holding offer from before was he?

No, that was impossible, the proud blond knew better than to think he could live that down if he did it.

At least, he thought that was impossible, until he felt Malik's weight on the couch starting to shift sneakily closer every couple seconds. What was he up to? Bakura drove the thoughts away, hating that he could be so distracted by the other boy's mere presence.

Crushes were so inconvenient that way.

Hate it as he did, he still couldn't help stiffening a bit when Malik got so close that Bakura could see his eyes flickering in his own direction nervously every couple of seconds. The heat of his body was creeping across the couple of inches left between them, and the intoxicating way it wrapped around Bakura made thinking about anything other than grabbing and kissing the hell out of that little brat very difficult.

This thought was driven away once again –but this time not on purpose; this time Malik caused the memory loss himself as he reached out one tan hand and, after a torturous hesitation, snatched Bakura's up in a vice tight grip.

Bakura's first reaction was blank surprise as the wheels in his brain spun, trying to get a grip on what Malik's motivation for this nonsensical move was. He had to know he wouldn't live it down, not after what his brother said earlier, and the kid had such annoyingly outstanding pride most of the time...

His second reaction was to balk as Malik tightened his grip hard enough to cause mild discomfort (note, not pain, Bakura would never credit the kid with enough strength to hurt the great Thief King Touzoku-sama) as though trying to regain his pride by being as abusive as possible of the privilege.

Despite these thoughts spinning around his head, Bakura chose the quickest reaction to the unpleasant sensation: he jerked his hand away before Malik could crush anymore of his bones. He needed that hand for picking locks, thank you very much.

Growling darkly to himself, he turned to glower dangerously with eyes that flashed with a red glare in the light of the TV down at the damn blond. Not only had he suddenly attached himself to his side, his nails were now digging into his thigh since he had removed his hand from the vicinity of pain.

Of course, the kid was too messed up to just cuddle like a normal queer –Bakura's irritated line of thought was shattered once again as Malik, per usual, managed to take him by surprise.

The second he turned to glare at him he noticed that those lavender eyes were fixated on the TV with a glassy film spread over them, despite the stoic look on the rest of his face. In fact, once he blinked, if it weren't for the hand still puncturing the skin of Bakura's thigh in a rather arousing way, Bakura almost wouldn't have been able to tell the kid was terrified out of his wits.

As it was, given the earlier conversation, the glazed look that hovered in his eyes, and the brutal grip on his thigh, it took about two seconds of looking at him for Bakura to realize that Malik really had shunted his pride aside in some sort of fearful need for comfort, just as Mariku had predicted.

Bakura considered pushing him away in annoyance, but then reconsidered. Physical clinginess wasn't really a problem for him, and Mariku had been right about everything else so far. He had no desire to have to try to block out the kid's crying if he started doing that next.

And maybe in a very, very small portion of his possibly existent heart, he would have felt somehow at fault if his lack of sympathy caused Malik to cry...no that was ridiculous, he just didn't want to put up with tears, he wasn't sympathetic enough for that sort of sissy situation.

Feeling that Malik had turned to stone beside him, he took some initiative in leaning over to whisper in the blonde's ear that was thankfully close by.

"Trying to take advantage of me in the dark, _Malik?_" He questioned huskily, waiting for one of the kids' typical reactions. Call him paranoid, but after his little stunt earlier, he wasn't going to let himself be made into a lovesick fool again anytime soon.

The claw of his hand clenching Bakura's thigh loosened in surprise, then in a seemingly spastic fashion, clenched shut again as Malik quivered with the indecision of how to respond. The indirect squeeze of his upper leg sent sensual shivers through Bakura's body, a hunger growling for the attention it had been starved of for far too long in recent times.

"No," Malik finally answered shortly, still staring directly at the TV, fear not showing through his voice at all. Bakura had to give the kid some credit; if it weren't for his comfort-seeking behaviour, and telltale body language, Bakura might have been fooled by the mere steadiness of his voice.

Perhaps that in itself was a sign though; Malik's voice rarely took on such a steel tone, not to Bakura's hardened ears anyways. The only time he heard it that way was that time...the Malik bitch-slap incident, where one of the jealous males in his grade, who was probably a closet gay himself, insulted Malik's family.

Of course, when Bakura probed him about it, he'd flipped out all over again, only this time he'd referenced another tragic tale, typical of a foster kid, about his life growing up with an abusive daddy.

So perhaps that was a bit of a harsh outlook on the situation, but at the time that was all that stuck in Bakura's mind. Sure it had pissed the kid off a bit, enough to get himself suspended, but nothing to the degree of panic or anger that he'd seen Ryou and Mariku experience respectively, in similar situations.

Why did it pop into his head now? No matter how uncomfortable Malik had been throughout the rest of the movie, this was the moment he chose to crack and come running to Bakura of all people for shelter.

It just seemed too convenient that on the screen that very moment a flashback to the main character's past was showing. The girl watched silently as her younger sister was strapped to a chair by their father, who proceeded to get off on her screams as he used her as a dart board.

Bakura had previously been thinking it was a creative use for otherwise useless kitchen knives, not to mention it explained why Ryou seemed to feel such a strong connection to this movie. However, now he was beginning to think it was a useful tool for figuring out what it was that made the blond currently turning him on tick so stubbornly against the flow.

Knives...an abusive father...helpless abandonment...watching torture...there were too many factors, and Bakura wasn't nearly patient enough to sit here and try to puzzle out which ones were setting off Malik's nerves tonight.

He brought up his hand and circled his ghostly pale fingers around the gold bangles and tan skin of his love interest, giving one sharp tug to dislocate his nails from the skin of his leg rather pointedly.

Malik shivered with insecurity as his hand immediately dipped back down to regain its grip. Fortunately, Bakura had enough of an advantage on him to stop him and therefore hold him at his mercy just through the loose grip on his wrist.

"Care to explain what it is you think you're doing?" Bakura murmured in an almost pleasant tone, if it hadn't been for the demanding undercurrent that brewed impatiently beneath the surface.

Malik grit his teeth but flinched as the father figure on screen made a show of ecstasy as his daughter continued thrashing in her hopeless bindings, all under her sister's watchful eye.

"Egypt...my otou-san he..." Malik stopped, as though debating something internally then gave his head a slight shake, finally coming out with, "he used to hit me with the only extension chord in that damn hole and then leave me somewhere creative so it took awhile before nii-san could find me. You should see the scars I started building up. Tell a soul and I'll make sure yours goes to hell along with his."

Bakura blinked, mildly surprised by the chilled bluntness of his tone, though the steel had become icy, and the insecurity vanished entirely in that last sentence. Considering that Bakura wasn't entirely sure if the 'nii-san' he referred to was Mariku or his adopted brother...what was his name...Rishid? He wasn't exactly in a position to be sympathetic or comment either way. Instead he went with what he was known best for in the eyes of his little blond companion.

"Hm, scars? I'll be sure to take a look at these battle wounds some other time," he said with a familiar, teasing lust, "but for now if you want to take your mind off it by making out, I'm up for it."

A tiny grin twisted Malik' mouth up in an almost pained manner as he realized that this was the exact reason that he had come crawling over to Bakura in his need for comfort, despite the fact that the cruel whitette was the least likely of the three to let his weakness go unchecked.

His familiar flirtatious teasing was, in itself, a form of comfort that Malik couldn't resist, let alone ignore or dislike. Feeling relief well up inside embarrassingly, even though he knew none of his companions could feel it the way he did, he knew he needed to act quickly before he did do something obviously embarrassing, like crying, as Mariku had predicted.

No, Malik was not inclined to tears. His otou-san had been a royal ass, a daily horror film for the first ten years of his life, but he was dead as dead could be, and he'd seen him die with his own two eyes, so there was no need to fear the memories of him.

Still...revulsion and hatred of that time bubbled sickeningly in his stomach, even worse because he knew he should have forgotten these emotions long ago, but they prompted him to scoot the last couple inches over to his crushes side, burying his face in that hard muscled chest desperately.

Desperate for a familiar touch, smell, presence. Desperate for a comforting figure. Desperate for a little bit of reassuring love, even fake love, just for a couple minutes. Just enough to remind him where his life was, and more importantly, where it _wasn't._

Bakura half raised his arms in surprise when Malik came tumbling into his lap neatly, pressed into his chest like a cold person to a fire.

Need.

Desire.

Desperation.

Emotions that Bakura fancied he had no experience dealing with personally, much less helping someone else work through. That wasn't entirely true though. He desired the kid...Malik...he desired him a lot. Enough that he sometimes felt like the blond was a sort of drug that he needed his daily fix of.

But desperate?

Bakura was never desperate. He didn't panic, or act rashly, and definitely not out of a weak emotion like fear. So why should he comfort Malik in his weakness? He shouldn't, was the answer. But the feeling of the blond snuggled against his chest, so comfortable and warm...that was need, and that was desire.

Even scarier was that it was the desire for so much more, and so much less, than a make out.

The desire to comfort, the need to be seen as useful, perhaps even 'good' in some way to Malik, it was all desire and need, desire and need, layer upon layer of each other; those two emotions seemed to make Bakura's world spin when Malik stubbornly stood in the centre of it.

Did those two things together on such a large scale constitute desperation?

Maybe, was the best Bakura could come up with, as he finally folded his arms around the younger Egyptian with grudgingly eager acceptance of his closeness.

"Cuddling was not an option," he grumbled, even as he tightened his grip, shifting the blond into a closer and more comfortable position. Malik mumbled something in response, and began to shift away. Bakura wasn't going to have any of that though, not now that he had the blond right where he wanted him.

Clicking his tongue gently to show his irritation with the other's squirming, he put a reprimanding hand on the other's head, pulling it back to his chest in a gruffly affectionate way. At least, that was the way Malik chose to interpret it as he relaxed back into the warmth of Bakura's body that betrayed his cold attitude.

After hardly a moment of having Malik in his lap, Bakura knew he couldn't just sit there anymore, slowly sliding one finger up his crush's spine experimentally. The results were immediate and extremely satisfying as Malik squirmed, caught between uncomfortable and pleased by the touch.

Bakura proceeded to stroke his Egyptian's body sensually, enjoying all the reactions he got for each different touch.

All except for one, that is.

Several spots on his back made Malik freeze, clenching his muscles tightly, as though everything in him was anticipating some sort of pain to follow. All these spots were slightly raised under his shirt, and Bakura quickly came to the conclusion that these must be the scars Malik had referenced earlier.

Now was not the time to torture his little blond love interest over them, but Bakura determined then and there that some day he would get the details about these scars and see them with his own eyes.

Yes one day he certainly would, the question was through what circumstance he would get to see them, be it pleasurable or painful.

But for now...for now he would just enjoy the movie as much as he could while teasing Malik with every touch and sign of subtle affection.

**A/N: So this chapter was more insightful to what 'Kura is thinking and feeling around Malik...and next chapter will contain more teasing flirtation between the two of them, I promise. I tried to add as much canon detail as possible, since what happens in the anime/manga is what creates the characters after all. Without adding all the drama of the sennen items, I figured I'd give Malik an abusive father and scars on his back, and yes, there will definitely be some back story pertaining to how his father died. Have fun reading, I hope to see you in the reviews section and I'll get back to you on Christmas! So whether you celebrate it or not: MERRY ALMOST CHRISTMAS! ~**


	21. Dress Down

**A/N: Merry-Belated-Super-Special-Awesome-Christmas! I don't know where you live, I don't know your real name, I don't know if you're happy, sad, having the time of your life or downright miserable, but I hope this early chapter brings a little bit of goodness to your day! All I want for Christmas is for my readers to enjoy this chapter (and maybe shoot me a review to let me know if they liked their present) :D**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

The credits slid across the screen, and even as Ryou leapt up to turn on the lights, Malik was sitting up, pulling away from Bakura hurriedly. As the lights flickered to life, Malik directed his eyes stubbornly away from the other three males, obviously embarrassed but unwilling to admit it.

If he had bothered to, he would have seen that even Mariku wasn't insensitive enough to tease his younger brother. That might have to do with the pile of beer bottles at his feet, but either way, he seemed more interested in playing with Ryou's thick white locks at the moment.

Bakura quickly found his own distraction, as he looked at Malik's hard expression and found he disliked the tough act on him, almost as much as he disliked his haughty know-it-all attitude. Licking his own thumb, he reached out and slid it under the kohl mark on Malik's soft tan cheek.

Even as the shadowy smudge disappeared under his touch, the kid jerked away from him with a shocked look on his face.

"What the hell are you doing?" He demanded with disgust, rubbing at his own cheek tenderly as the cool sensation of Bakura's wet thumb burned into his skin.

"It was" –

"Let's play dress up!" Mariku suddenly burst out, dark mauve eyes brightening excitedly as he stared intensely at the two boys on the couch to his right.

"Not on me," Bakura said bluntly, glaring back at the rambunctious and clearly drunk birthday boy.

"Not you, him ~!" Mariku all but sang with a slight hiccup that seemed to surprise him. Shaking it off, he sprung across the room, barrelling into his loudly protesting brother.

"No, I am not playing dress up with" –Malik's vehement denial was cut off as Mariku ripped him off the sofa bodily and half carried, half dragged him down the hall towards a room Bakura had never been in, but assumed was Malik's.

What, Mariku was going to dress him up in normal clothes? He must be really drunk. Malik, of course, struggled non-stop the whole way, swearing at the top of his lungs in Arabic, while Bakura grinned after him tauntingly.

"Don't worry kid, as long as you don't have any dresses in your room it won't be as bad as last year when he dressed Ryou up in Ishizu's clothes," He called after their retreating forms dryly. The mere shock of that statement seemed to sink in for Malik as he stopped struggling, going slack as disturbing images began churning in his mind.

The door slammed shut behind his limp form, followed in the next two seconds by the sound of falling clothes hangers and a long stream of Egyptian curses that seemed to include both Bakura and Mariku's names on several occasions.

The sound of a fight erupted behind the door, and for the next five minutes Ryou and Bakura were left to only guess at what was going on his room with a very drunk Mariku. Bakura had no doubt that Malik would end up in whatever Mariku wanted, his brother was strong, much stronger than Bakura would ever admit, and wasn't in the state of mind to pull any punches.

All sound suddenly ceased, and Malik began grumbling in a slightly surprised tone, but at least it was a sign that he was alive and not too pissy about whatever Mariku was trying to force him into. A few moments later the door flew open, slamming into the wall, followed by a grumpy looking Malik who was barely out of the door when Mariku flew by, prancing back into the living room with a scary grin plastered on his almost childish face.

Malik stood his ground in the dim lit hallway, obviously not happy about walking any farther into the better lit area. Bakura squinted his eyes, trying to get a glimpse at whatever it was Mariku had forced him into but it was impossible to tell from his spot on the couch.

Raising one stark white hand, he beckoned the other boy closer impatiently. It was hard to tell, but it looked like Malik gave his head a firm shake. Seeing Bakura's annoyance, Mariku stopped looking like he was plotting an attack on Ryou's innocence, and instead bounded back down the hall to where he brother stood.

Grabbing him by the back of...whatever he was wearing...he dragged him down the remainder of the hallway, ignoring the way he crossed his arms and dug in his heels. Malik's message was loud and clear: he was pouting, and he was going to pout whether any of his companions had a problem with it or not.

Leaving him standing just outside the room, Mariku all but skipped back into the living room, practically purring as he threw himself back down on Ryou's couch. He proceeded to playfully rub himself against Ryou, who now had his hands completely full with a strangely innocent and yet lustfully drunk Mariku.

Bakura, on the other hand, had his eyes focused on Malik, whose arms were folded in a tight, uncomfortable fashion around himself, glancing Bakura's way nervously. Dark mahogany eyes narrowed, and the whitette smirked challengingly.

Gritting his teeth, Malik knew he couldn't back down after showing such weakness earlier. With that thought in mind, he stepped apprehensively into the small room as though waiting for a bomb to explode.

And explode it did.

Bakura was pretty sure he heard a thump when his jaw hit the floor when Malik stepped into the light, a fiercely proud, if also embarrassed, scowl written across his golden face, violet eyes flashing in the bright light.

His sandy blond hair brushed the shoulders of the matching lavender top he wore. Golden chains that matched his eye catching jewellery crossed the front of the shirt, if the skimpy midriff clearing piece of cloth could be called a shirt at all.

Bakura had felt some muscle on Malik's frame when they cuddled earlier in the day, and during the movie, but he was impressed and maybe a little surprised, by the bare abdominals that Malik's shirt did nothing to hide.

As downright tempting as the shirt made the kid look all on its own, it was the way his slender hips slunk inside those drool worthy leather pants that made Bakura want him even more badly than he had up until this point.

Skin tight, gleaming black, riding just around his hips...God he looked delicious, it was no wonder Ryou had practically dry heaved when he saw Mariku in his football uniform. Needless to say, in Bakura's eyes, looking the way he did right now, Mariku could strip naked and Malik would still be far more arousing to Bakura's most masculine instincts.

It took him a good minute to drag his eyes from the younger boy's midriff and smoking hot leather clad ass, back to his face that wore a scowl that said he knew exactly what Bakura was staring at.

Smirking wickedly, Bakura felt no restraint as he said seductively, "Put some handcuffs on you, kid, and you could be my sex slave any day." Malik's face contorted in horror, cheeks turning a brilliant embarrassed red.

"I-I...fuck no! I would never ever...just no!" He spluttered, humiliated beyond belief as Mariku began snickering, momentarily distracted from his quest to get Ryou to dress down for him. Things were bad when Malik looked more flustered than Ryou, when the latter was being pinned to the couch by his aggressive almost-boyfriend.

"Oh no, you're wrong, what you mean is fuck _yes_," Bakura said, mahogany eyes clouded with alcohol and lust as he leaned towards the young Ishtar.

"Nuh-uh," Mariku had the common sense to say, despite the fact that he was by far the most smashed of the four in the room. That said, it was highly unlikely any amount of alcohol would convince him to hand his younger brother over to a tipsy Bakura.

"Can I at least touch his ass then?" Bakura whined, eyes flickering down even as Malik turned so that his rear was completely out of sight.

"No, you may not," Malik snapped in a harsh choppy tone. If Bakura had been talking this way to Mariku, it would have been disturbing, no doubt about it. With Bakura speaking this way to him, it was still disturbing, but much more disturbing was Malik's own feelings.

On the surface he despised the thought of being chained up anywhere, for any purpose, much less to be a _gay sex slave._ But then underneath that...underneath the initial distaste...much like beer it had its lure.

Not the sex slave part, he would never sell his pride to Bakura so easily, but the way Bakura had been so easily aroused by his mere presence out of his school uniform. The fact that he liked having Bakura's eyes so desirously on him alone, now that, that was truly disturbing, and beyond that, downright terrifying.

Did he want to sleep with Bakura?

His body might want to, that was one thing, but what about his head? Was that what this crush was coming to, a simple, animalistic, sexual desire? No, for that reason alone Malik put his foot down. He could hardly accept the fact that he had a crush on another boy, but if he did this wasn't going to be a sexual experiment, that was for damn sure.

"You're never gonna to get rid of him now brat, once Kura's turned on, he won't give trying to ged what he wants. I dunno how you plan on dealing with this one though 'Kura, the brat's so much a virgin, and it's not like dressing like this is new to him. You should see all the leather shit he has in his closhet left over for Egypt," Mariku slurred nonsensically.

It didn't make a lot of sense, in fact some of the words didn't seem to match the rest of his thoughts at all, but Bakura got the gist of what he was saying. So this was how Malik dressed all the time outside of school, huh?

Bakura could get used to that easily. And there was no use denying he was turned on, why bother when Malik looked so irresistibly like some sort of sexy bondage slave?

"I've never had a problem with virgins until this day, should be interesting," Bakura purred speculatively, and Malik proceeded to turn an even brighter shade of red until his face looked ready to bleed with pure frustration.

"It's not my fault your ass looks so smackable in those pants," Bakura continued to gloat, and Malik flinched away, like Bakura had actually reached out towards him.

"Smackable isn't a word, which you should know. Obviously you're drunk. I may be a virgin, but I'm not giving myself to an idiot," Malik said with a harsh scowl to accompany his words, turning so that he could face both Mariku and Bakura at once.

Ryou was struggling to sit up, looking equally embarrassed and sympathetic to Malik's plight. Suddenly, Malik wished he'd stuck up for Ryou a little more on the many occasions he'd been in similar situations.

Scarily enough, the other whitette and his partner in crime weren't all that different drunk than they were on a regular basis.

"Malik," Bakura said seriously all of a sudden, his tone by itself enough to tip Malik off that he was up to something. Turning suspiciously, he glared at him, brushing aside his white-blond hair proudly.

"What do you want now?" He asked darkly, then immediately back peddled when a mischievous grin flickered to life on Bakura's face.

"Just to tell you that I would do this whether I was drinking or not," Bakura informed him before promptly reaching out to smack Malik's leather clad rear end sharply before melting into cruel laughter along with his older brother.

Malik gave an indignant yelp, not only because Bakura had violated him, but because it hadn't exactly been a gentle slap either. Glaring furiously at his stupid, possibly drunk and possibly just enormous asshole of a crush, he gave a sound of pure frustration and then threw caution to the wind, launching himself at Bakura with all his rage powering the leap.

Bakura's eyes widened slightly in surprise, rewarding Malik well enough for his spontaneous attack since surprise was not an emotion Bakura was likely to admit to or show.

The surprised expression quickly turned into a sly grin that made Malik aware of just how strange it was for him to be piling all his weight on top of Bakura, who had been knocked flat back on the couch, all because of the way Bakura had been going after him in his 'annoyingly' flirty way.

Looking straight into Malik's glare, Bakura said casually, "You just went from smackable to downright doable."

"You are such an ass!" Malik snapped, shifting his weight to maximize any discomfort Bakura was enduring with his rather slight weight balanced on top of his chest.

In fact, Malik was starting to realize that Bakura was probably _enjoying _his position, considering he could have moved him long ago if he wanted to, a thought that was confirmed quickly as Bakura replied, "Oh and I thought you were the one with the fine ass. But I'm glad you like mine to, especially if I'm going to be" –

"Bakura, enough!" Ryou chastised in a concerned tone, as Malik's face began to twitch with barely controlled fury.

Considering his vantage, Ryou could see Bakura coming away from tonight with a bloody nose and a couple broken bones. Then again, Bakura might deserve it, but Malik certainly wouldn't deserve whatever form of revenge Bakura decided to take out on him in turn.

"Please, both of you, try not to do anything you'll regret just because you're under the influence," Ryou pleaded them both like a MADD member, though his advice fit into very different categories between the two of them.

"I'm not even drunk though," Bakura said smugly and even as Malik opened his mouth to disagree heartily, Bakura silently pointed to the single empty bottle of beer that sat on the coffee table, and the half empty one next to it.

Any sound Malik had meant to make came out in a choked whimper of disbelief as he looked at what could not possibly have been enough consumed alcohol for Bakura to be drunk. Glancing down at the white haired thief still beneath him and then back at the empty bottle, all the thoughts seemed to clash together and come to one explosive conclusion: Bakura wasn't faking this!

At least, not his desire to have Malik on top of him while wearing...oh shit, he was still on top of him _and _wearing 'sex slave' clothing!

Scrambling back off of him desperately, Malik shunted himself into the corner of the couch, as far away from Bakura as he could, though he refused to say anything for the sake of his pride. Bakura's riotous laughter was punishment enough for being fooled so easily.

All Malik could do at this point was avoid the other's gaze, pouting childishly behind his flustered blush and crossed arms. As his laughter faded away, Bakura gazed contentedly at his bested love interest who looked a strange cross of sexy and yet undeniably cute.

Ryou gave him a reprimanding frown and opened his mouth, probably to lecture him some more, but Mariku beat it to him.

Behind his silly grin and slurring tone, Bakura managed to make out the hammered birthday boy's words which went something along the lines of, "You-yu're a...yu're a never gonna ged in his pents like that if yur always pissin yur bitch off."

While it didn't make a whole lot of sense, even deciphered, Ryou seemed to understand because he raised a snowy white eyebrow and turned to look back at Bakura while simultaneously fighting off more of Mariku's advances with gentle hands.

How he multitasked so patiently like that, Malik only wished he knew.

"He's got a point Bakura," glancing at Mariku warningly as he tugged at the smaller whitette's belt with a desirous grin on his face, Ryou pushed his hand away with firm rejection before looking back to Bakura with a small roll of his chocolate coloured eyes and added, "Well I wouldn't say it's about actually getting in his pants...and I wouldn't call him your...you know...but the point is, you could bear to be a little bit nicer."

Despite his inability to be crude in making his point, Ryou was the only one capable of making Bakura feel even the smallest modulation of guilt, so with much grumbling under his breath and cutting glares, he steeled himself to do, for the second time tonight, something he hated doing: apologizing to an oversensitive kid.

Despite the gruelling task set before him, he gave a final sigh and allowed a mischievous smile to take his face as he glanced slyly towards Malik, who's now-fading blush returned immediately as he was caught staring.

Quirking an eyebrow upward toward his mess of knotted flyaway hair, he gave a small chuckle, getting up on his hands and knees so that he leaned threateningly in Malik's general direction. Malik's lavender gaze shifted nervously in his direction before jumping back to straight ahead, shuffling restlessly like a prey that suspected it was about to be pounced on by an unknown predator.

Said predator didn't make him suffer too long, flashing sharp white canines that seemed to parallel the situation as he grinned just before stretching languidly in an almost feline way. Malik's eye twitched slightly as the tension built, and he looked just about ready to snap when Bakura, mid stretch, launched himself gracefully across the couch and brought himself crashing down on top of the other boy.

Despite the ample warning his actions had given, Malik gave a moment of surprised struggle, but Bakura was a true predator, and he quickly had him subdued, pinning him down with quick, strong strokes of his arms.

Malik glared up at that knowing smirk that screamed Bakura's cocky knowledge of the fact that Malik was quietly impressed by his strength.

Slightly winded, and bitter that he had been pinned so easily, Malik let out an irritated, "I hate you."

Bakura, to his eternal annoyance, didn't even look offended, merely gave another smirk as he leaned close enough to kiss him as he responded in whisper, "You don't hate me, you're just relieved that I want you, and that scares the shit out of you."

Ryou cleared his throat pointedly and Bakura rolled his eyes that seemed to flash crimson in the low lighting before adding mischievously, "But I promise not to grope you again unless you ask really nicely." Malik drew a sharp breath at his hard hitting assessment.

What did he say now? Agree? Deny it? He wasn't even sure if it was true...well...no, that was a lie to.

The more he thought about it, he knew it _was _true that he felt some relief that Bakura hadn't rejected his earlier advances, and he _was_ scared of the idea that Bakura wanted him...and a small part of him, the part still struggling over whether or not he really wanted Bakura, was scared of his relief as well.

Instead of voicing his confusion allowed, though Bakura was probably acutely aware of it, he said the first thing that came to mind. In a slightly breathless tone he asked, "Are you sure you're not drunk?"

Bakura blinked in surprise, hesitating a little before giving a small grin and saying, "I suppose that's possible," pointing to the other two empty beer bottles lying at the foot of the couch.

_He 'conveniently' forgot to mention those earlier_, Malik thought dryly even as Mariku gave a scary giggle and Ryou sighed helplessly. Groaning, Malik sat up, shoving Bakura out of his lap with resigned acceptance.

"Pass me another beer, Ryou, or I might not survive to the end of this night..."

**A/N: And there is your daily does of (crappily written) Thiefshipping! Huzzah! Also, I hate relationship development that takes place when the character(s) are drunk; it takes away all the romance for me, which is why this chapter was more flirtation and not a lot of change in dynamics between them. It also happens to set up the next part to this story which is much, much more cute, and much, much more dynamic. I can't wait to write it/post it for you, my lovely readers! **

**As a side note, I will be gone to the land of death with no internet for the next week, so I will not be able to update this Tuesday, but in the event that I miss New Years as well: Happy New Years! Here's a firecracker, don't eat it.**


	22. Hang Over

**A/N: I have no excuse. I know it's been forever, I know you all hate me...but out of curiosity, has anyone ever heard the saying, "you know life is good when you don't want to go to bed because reality is finally better than your dreams?" Yah, that's kinda my life right now...which is totally not a bad problem to have, it just makes writing the romance much more difficult xD But anyways! Too many words that sound too much like excuses. There is no excuse! The only conciliation is that I swear I will never give up on this story! NEVER! I love you guys too much :) **

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

Red eyes that seemed to glow with the wrath of hell snapped open, a searing glare stabbing through the air to impale the meek whitette who was tapping on Malik's bedroom door gently.

"If you don't stop that bloody racket in about five second, _nii-san,_ I'm going to come over there and" –

"If you hadn't been drinking so much last night, it wouldn't sound like a racket, now would it _nii-san_?" Ryou shot back firmly, righteously indignant over the other two boys' griping about how much their heads hurt this morning. Malik had yet to make his appearance, thus Ryou was now moving on to wake him up.

"Whether it's his fault or not, my head still feels like it's going to fucking explode," Mariku grumbled in a deep, irritable voice, eyelids twitching as Ryou looked unhappy with his attitude. "Don't look so offended," Mariku snapped, and then realized that would do little good to Ryou's self esteem.

Being hung over and nice at the same time was even harder than just being plain old nice.

"It's just...you know...oh, for fuck sake, my head hurts and you're making me go to school without even getting laid last night! Stop whining and just be happy I'm going," he raged and Ryou flinched, turning his eyes away, though it wasn't enough to hide his hurt his expression.

Bakura glared at Mariku from where he was flopped down on the couch, although it was unclear as to whether it was for his cruel words or simply for being loud.

"Ra damn it...fine, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do...whatever the fuck it was that I did wrong," he added in a dark grumbled that was a cross between annoyance and guilt.

"It's alright," Ryou said coolly, turning back to Malik's bedroom door. He knew it wasn't fair to be upset with Mariku for being grumpy when he was clearly so hung over –but he was annoyed with him for _getting_ so hung over.

Waking him up had been mission enough, what with him having fallen asleep half collapsed on Ryou, and then jerking awake howling enough curses to wake the living dead. It didn't bode well for whatever state Malik was in if that hadn't woken him up.

"It's clearly not alright," Bakura commented uselessly, and Ryou frowned at him, once again stopped from waking up the other Egyptian. Why did he only have energy to make the situation even worse?

"I...it's not...well I can't help it, apparently I can't do anything right for him anyways!" Mariku snapped, throwing his hands up in frustration. "I'm going to school," he announced before promptly stomping out of the door in what he probably considered a nice way. Or the nicest he could manage to be at the moment.

Ryou sighed, leaning back against Malik's door with exhaustion as he looked at the path of destruction Mariku had left. A small smile tugged at his lips to his horror, and he desperately tried to fight it off.

Clearly he'd been spending too much time with the others, because he found Mariku's walkout tantrum more endearing than offensive. Or, maybe he was he was just learning to appreciate Mariku's particular brand of loving.

Even if it might not seem like he was trying, he had a point, at least he was going to school, he'd even made a point of announcing it before leaving. Shaking his head at his own romanticized thoughts, he returned to gently knocking on Malik's door.

Still no response.

Bakura grumbled some more, and Ryou wished there was something he could do to fix everyone's problems, including his own. Aside from the headaches caused by his friends' own foolishness, they actually created a sort of warped family.

He was, of course, the oka-san, ushering everyone out of bed and trying to get them to school on time.

He supposed that made Mariku the otou-san, one who was suitably gruff and bad with emotions, but he connected better with the 'kids' than 'ka-san Ryou' could.

Bakura would have to be the rebellious teenage boy, what with his messy hair and sexual endeavours, while Malik...Ryou felt horrible for even thinking it.

Malik would have to be the teenage girl of the family.

The thought was almost comical but also disturbing at the same time. Malik as a _girl_? Sure he'd be cute but...Ryou blushed slightly, shaking the thought away. Enough of that, he should just focus on waking the other boy up –only his knocking didn't seem to be doing anything productive.

Evidently, it was too much for Bakura's poor throbbing head to handle though, because he was suddenly there, looking furious. For one nervous moment, Ryou wondered if he was actually going to strike him, but instead Bakura's pale hand closed around the door handle.

He gave it a sharp twist and then threw it open, allowing it to slam into the wall on the other side loudly. He seemed to realize that wasn't his best idea, and immediately made a beeline for the kitchen in search of aspirin.

Ryou stared after him warily before peeking inside Malik's room cautiously. Immediately, his thoughts about Malik as a teenage girl returned when he saw the piles of clothing strewn around the room, and several pieces of gold jewellery as well as a bottle of kohl on the desk.

He almost breathed a sigh of relief when he saw a pair of purple boxers in the corner. Right, he wasn't supposed to be thinking about this...thankfully, he was distracted when the mound of sheets on the mat in the centre of the room began moving, emitting loud grumbles. A stack of blond hair appeared, marking where Malik's head was at least.

"Kura? What the fuck...get out of my room," he mumbled and Ryou choked back a small giggle, as Malik attempted to roll over and go back to sleep.

"Um, it's not Bakura, it's Ryou, but I'm sorry he woke you up so rudely," Ryou said quickly before Malik could fall back into his dead-to-the-world slumber. There was a pause where Malik didn't respond, but shifted some more to show he wasn't asleep again.

"Does your...head hurt?" Ryou asked hesitantly, tiptoeing gingerly into the room around what appeared to be week-old laundry. Malik finally dragged himself into a sitting position, shoving the blankets away with a small grunt. Ryou blushed, seeing that the other boy was only wearing boxers, and quickly averted his eyes.

"You mean, do I have a hangover?" Malik asked dryly, and Ryou peeked back at him to give a quick nod. Malik blinked his lavender eyes, putting a hand to his head curiously.

"No, I don't think so," he confirmed cautiously, shaking his head lightly. "I guess neither of us could afford to drink much last night, ne Ryou? Not with those two baka prowling around," he joked, jumping to his feet, and Ryou laughed lightly, though he kept his eyes politely averted.

"Nii-san was pretty determined," Ryou commented quietly in his most innocent voice. Malik scowled, looking unhappy to be reminded, though the brightness in his eyes seemed to contrast that. He had been uncomfortable for a large portion of the night, as Bakura came onto him repeatedly, but true to his word he hadn't touched Malik once.

"Speaking of determined...you and Mariku surprised me yesterday. I didn't know you two were together," Malik said questionably, knowing it would get Ryou's attention off himself and Bakura. That was a problem Malik had spent far too long thinking about, and didn't want to talk about.

"Um...well I don't think we're really together...that is, he hasn't actually committed to me," Ryou corrected in an embarrassed tone.

"Well if you want commitment, I wouldn't ask him today, that's for sure," Malik said, referencing the clear migraine both of the other males seemed to be dealing with this lovely morning.

"I figured that out pretty quickly, he's not in the best of moods this morning," Ryou admitted a little sheepishly, and Malik quirked one blond eyebrow, as he stretched luxuriously.

"I've yet to see him in _any_ good moods. I honestly don't know what you see in" –he cut himself off, mid-stretch and mid-sentence, as his eyes fell blankly on the small digital clock, blinking its cheerful '7:35' news from the corner of the room. He blinked a couple more times, straightening up cautiously while keeping his incomprehensive eyes on the screen.

And then it clicked.

"RA DAMN-IT, WHY DIDN'T ANYONE WAKE ME UP SOONER?" Ryou flinched and barely had time to duck as Malik tore across the room, flinging any offending articles of clothes that got in his way in various directions.

Ryou didn't even have to close his eyes, because Malik changed so quickly he didn't have time to even _blink._

Ten seconds later, the blond whirlwind was at his dresser, combing his hair and clipping on jewellery at a rate faster than Ryou would have believed possible having seen the other boy asleep only five minutes ago.

Then Ryou was being yanked out the door and finally broken out of his stupor with a yelp of surprise as the door nearly slammed on his nose. Spinning around desperately as he recalled Bakura's reaction the sound of slamming doors, or really any noise at all, he moved to warn Malik...but it was already too late.

The Egyptian was standing in front of the hall mirror, scrubbing desperately at the smudges of his wasted kohl lines from the night before, when Bakura, looking truly demonic, appeared behind him in the mirror.

"We're leaving," Bakura said shortly, indicating that 'we' meant Ryou and himself were leaving for school. Malik's lip jutted out in a slight pout, tugging fretfully at the tight skin of his golden cheeks which were now make-up free –it made a striking difference from his usual exotic look. He almost looked...normal.

"But can't I just" –

"Now," Bakura snapped dangerously and Malik flinched, proceeding to sulk more as he reached for the kohl bottle regretfully. A feral growl interrupted him, followed by one ghostly hand snatching the bottle out of reach before grabbing the blond by the back of his collar and giving him a forceful yank towards the door.

Malik gave a sound of surprise, stumbling to keep his feet as his spine bowed under the force of Bakura's abusive grip. The whitette released him with a shove that sent him uncomfortably close to the glass pane of the door.

"Go. Now." Bakura bit out, and Malik turned half way to glare at him fiercely, clearly fully awake now.

"You didn't have to be so rough about it," he grumbled, straightening his normally smooth collar before proceeding to open the door and walk out at his own leisurely pace. Ryou had to give him credit for his guts if nothing else, even in the face of Bakura's rage he was prideful enough to go out of his way to make a point.

Ryou followed quietly after the other two, feeling guilty for not locking the door, and then realizing that was silly, their foster parents would probably be home soon after all. It struck him just how different Mariku's life at home was from his own, even if it hadn't seemed like it last night.

He had oka-san and otou-san figures, even if he didn't feel much for them, two nii-sans, and a nee-san, whereas Ryou...he only came home to Bakura every day. The thought brought on a new wave of sadness; he had always been more sensitive toward their otou-san's abandonment than Bakura was.

A thought nudged its way into the sadness though, the image of him coming home to...Mariku? Or waking up in the other boys arms like he had this morning...thoughts about future sleepovers with his 'friend' brought a blush to his face.

Why were these thoughts coming to him right now of all times? He'd never had problems with this sort of thing up until recently when Mariku had become increasingly affectionate...

His thoughts trailed off and were promptly trampled on by the sound of another squabble breaking out between Bakura and Malik, who made it all of ten feet to the car before clawing at each other's throats again.

Malik was saying something about not wanting to be driven by someone so hung over, and Bakura was telling him to stop bitching because he didn't have a license of his own outside of his M and his learners permit. Ryou sighed, coming between them to calmly sort things out before blood could be shed.

"Malik, I will drive; Bakura, please respect that we are not the ones who caused your hangover," he said calmly, giving them both sweet smiles. Bakura grumbled something about that being 'debatable' but Ryou knew him well enough to know that it was unlikely that he was in the mood to concentrate on driving anyways.

Malik slid into the back seat, still looking annoyed and, well, for lack of better word, bitchy. "You know just because" –he suddenly started to say, but was cut off by the slam of Bakura's door.

"No more talking," Bakura ordered coldly, glaring at the blond in the rear view window. The glare was immediately returned, and there was nothing flirtatious about it. Ryou sighed glumly, looking out the window. This morning was becoming a disaster very quickly.

It didn't help that Malik was either feeling extremely suicidal this morning, or oddly hyper, because every ten seconds Bakura was snapping at him to stop whatever new annoying noise he'd taken up, whether it was tapping his foot, or squeaking his thumb across the window glass suspiciously.

Right after Bakura called him out for this last disruption of the 'silence' code, Malik asked the obvious question that had coincidentally been on Ryou's mind as well. The only difference was that Ryou was smart enough not to ask, even daring to hope he might make it out of the car without having to hear Bakura actually shatter every window in the car, along with his and Malik's budding...whatever it was.

"So if you're driving me to school now, how do you expect me to get home later? My motorcycle isn't going to teleport itself to school you know," Malik commented saucily and Ryou winced as Bakura all but twitched in his seat.

There definitely had to have been a better way to phrase that rather ungrateful sounding question and Bakura was going to make sure the younger boy knew it.

Ryou pulled up at the red light a mere corner away from the school slowly, giving a quick prayer for any other cars that might get hit in the sure-to-follow brawl. Feeling the charged current coming from Bakura's icy corner of the car, Ryou tried to intervene on the nervous silence.

"Malik I'm sure I could" –

"Fine, kid, you need some to pick up after you? Wipe your ass so you don't have to deal with your own shit? I'll give you a ride home after school," Bakura declared in a scarily calm voice. Ryou tensed, staring at the light ahead with a deer-in-the-headlights expression. In the rear-view mirror, Malik opened his mouth to fire something back per usual, but Bakura never gave him a chance.

"I'll give you a ride home," he repeated, "if you get out of my car right now, and learn to quite bitching _when I'm hung-over!_" It would have been an impressive statement, had it not been for the fact that it while it started with concealed fury, it progressed to a petty snarl by the end.

Ryou decided to catalogue that away for future reference. _Fact –Bakura's natural deadliness and nastiness in general is softened by hangovers. Maybe I should start stocking up on alcohol..._the thought immediately made him feel terribly guilty, but Ryou couldn't help a very small, immature snicker.

Bakura turned his glare on him next, making him regret the thought even more.

"You'll be walking home soon to if you don't make that stop," Bakura growled, and Ryou realized with a start that there was a whole line of restless cars that were beginning to honk as he didn't move for the green light.

His foot immediately went to the gas, but Bakura's ghostly hand that matched his own perfectly came down on the wheel threateningly.

"First, make him get out," he ordered, and Ryou swallowed hard, looking back at Malik's disbelieving face and darting eyes with nervous guilt.

"Maybe you should," Ryou squeaked, seatbelt suddenly feeling too tight, the wheel too close for his liking. It took him over a year to get used to driving without having a panic attack. Ka-san was always warning him about the dangers of driving when she was alive –if only she had known how many scarier things there were out there, such as _Bakura _driving, especially when he wasn't even in the front seat.

"You're not serious," Malik whined, fingers already flicking the door handle distractedly. His fidgeting _was _getting a little annoying, even Ryou had to admit, and he wasn't hung-over. What was with him this morning?

"You know he'll do it," Ryou pleaded, as Bakura twisted the wheel violently towards himself as though to demonstrate the point, teeth gritted fiercely.

"Fine, only because I know this psycho will kill us all just to get some peace and quiet," Malik finally huffed, throwing the door open, and nailing Bakura with a final glare before jetting out of the car and disappearing like a puff of smoke.

Ryou began to move forward gratefully, wishing he was more oblivious so he wouldn't notice all the obscene gestures he was receiving for being the only one to get through on the light. He was just grateful Bakura had taken his hands off the wheel and was relaxing a little more now that Malik's incessant tapping and complaining had ceased.

The more sensitive of the two didn't dare to speak until they were firmly pulled into a parking spot, watching the other students flood by silently outside the windows. Bakura didn't look very eager to open the door to the chaotic noise that was sure to actually be out there.

"You know" –Ryou started hesitantly, but sensing where he was going, Bakura quickly cut him off.

"Don't ask me to go easier on him," Bakura said bluntly, sounding less angry and simply wearier now.

"I just think you should try being a little...nicer," Ryou suggested in a cautious tone, half poised to jump out of the car, should Bakura suddenly snap, "you might have really hurt his feelings this time. He values his independence."

"It's not my fault he's so damn sensitive," Bakura shot back irritably, turning his back to indicate the conversation was over –but not fast enough to avoid Ryou's hurt look, that immediately had guilt wiggling its way into his not-so-little-or-cold heart.

"You know, having some sane sensitivity around guys like you can be a good thing," Ryou said pointedly in an injured puppy tone, before snatching up his bag and scurrying out of the car. Bakura attempted to melt the glass of the window between them as he glared at his twin brother's retreating figure.

_Fuck,_ he thought, even his inner conscious lacklustre under his throbbing head ache, _when did he grow a backbone? That must be Mariku's fault._ With a small grunt of frustrated dissatisfaction, he picked up his mostly-empty bag, hand resting on the door handle with little motivation to exit.

Thanks to his hurried exit this morning, they were still early by several minutes, which meant the halls would be crawling, and even from inside the car it was too bright. Not to mention even the people who weren't smashed the night before seemed particularly pissy this _fine_ morning.

What was Malik's problem anyways? Strutting around, just begging to be insulted, and then crying over it when he finally got what he was asking for! So maybe he'd been a little harsh...but the kid knew how hung-over he was.

It wasn't hard to tell, and if people said nothing you did counted when you were drunk, than Bakura rationalized nothing you did counted when you were hung-over either. In fact, the only thing that made him come to school at all today was Malik, the kid should be fucking grateful!

Well, that and those sunglasses he'd filched from the boy's locker room last year that were still sitting in his desk...surely they'd make these hideous UV rays less piercing...then maybe he'd be able to deal with Ryou.

His nii-san never stayed upset long, especially when he had bigger things to worry about, such as Mariku.

And if that went okay...well then maybe he'd make good on his offer to drive Malik home after school.

Maybe this day wouldn't be a total waste after all.

**A/N: *Phew* so I just typed most of that up in one sitting, purely out of deep, deep, soul consuming guilt. I think it probably came out as crap as a result...ugh...tell me if it was *shudders* blindingly awful to read. Please? Gosh, I'm a terrible author...blah.**

**BUT! Here's a little clue for the next chapter or two: it involves some pills, a disastrous car ride (which isn't Bakura OR Malik's fault –go figure!), and fish! Wtf? I know, you'll just have to look forward to the next (SHOULD BE) much sooner update ^^ ~!**


	23. One Million and One Distractions

**A/N: Yes…that's right…I've slogged through the treacherously muddy fields of lack of time, the sucking pits of quicksand-like distractions, and the blank nothingness of the e'er cursed writer's block, to bring you this NEW CHAPTER! At friggin last, right? Right? Yah, if anyone's actually still reading this…I really don't deserve such awesome readers, thanks for all the supporting reviews guys, they really kicked me back into writer's mode! ;) **

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

It took considerable effort, but five minutes later, Bakura found himself shoving other students out of his way rudely as he approached the classroom doorway. His books were still in his locker, but he already knew he wasn't in the mood to learn anyways, so screw it.

In fact, he was so determined to simply get to class, get those sunglasses, and get out again, that he nearly ran right into Ryou, who was frozen in the doorway.

"Move," he said dismissively, and Ryou started to do so slowly, a concerned look mixed with shock written across his face. "What? Did Mariku stare at you too long or something?" Bakura snapped, seeing the crinkle in his twin's lily white forehead.

As soon as he made it through the door, he felt his stomach drop through the floor, realizing he should have taken Ryou's partial warning a little more seriously. For a moment it felt strangely numb, hang over forgotten, just floating on air.

It almost would have been pleasant, except that, like falling, he crash landed back in reality with a nasty not-so-weightless lurch.

Malik, that kid, that _ungrateful_ whiny kid, was perched on top of his desk, leaning half way across the aisle as he talked to Jinoto-san, the mousy haired girl who usually sat hunched between Mariku and Ryou.

Well, she was studious, Bakura's brain informed him, as it tried to process this situation. She had scored the highest on the high school entrance exams when they were applying, and she always took notes, so maybe he just needed help?

After all, this was a senior level class...but considering the wispy black strands of hair falling around her face, he doubted her forte was hair care, and Malik wasn't exactly stopping her from reaching out a hand to run her fingers through his hair playfully.

And that _face,_ the one he sometimes shot Bakura during an argument, why was he looking at _Jinoto-san _that way? Bakura felt the slightest flicker of doubt –maybe he really wasn't gay? –then replaced it with fury.

He was gay! He had to be, Bakura was not wrong about this!

After all, what guy could be that effeminate and not be bisexual at least? No, bisexual wasn't even applicable, nothing was, he was Bakura's and that was the only fact coursing through every adrenaline fused cell in the furious boy's body right now.

He happened to hate sharing, after all.

Grinding his teeth together, he stomped over to the desk, not missing the way Malik's curious gaze flickered his way before returning flirtatiously to Jinoto-san.

The girl saw Bakura coming, and her almond shaped eyes widened in fear, obviously realizing her mistake, but it was already too late. His pale white hand was slapping hers away from his frustrating crush before she could think about taking the gesture back.

He doubted it had hurt her physically, but she still gasped, cradling her offended hand to herself in shock. Bakura sneered down at her, ready to do more than just push her out of the way, but Malik intervened.

"You wouldn't hit a girl," he pronounced in an almost awestruck, far too entertained and horrified tone. Rounding on him, Bakura was quick to pin him down, throwing his weight against the kid so that his body was pinned beneath him awkwardly on top of his desk.

"_I _can do whatever _I _choose to do," Bakura said, articulating it carefully so his intention could not be missed, nor the furious jealousy underneath his words, "_You _don't get that privilege."

Seeing his gaze straining futilely to get a glance back a Jinoto-san, Bakura pressed him harder down on the desk, though the spread of the kid's thighs beneath his oppressing body was incredibly distracting.

Now, if he'd still been wearing those leather pants this could have gotten _very_...no, wait, not here, not right now, he still has a message to drill into the foolish kid's head.

"Stop trying to look at her," he ordered, and Malik stopped squirming quite so much, a pouty expression overtaking his face.

"I just wanted to make sure you did hurt Len-chan," he said innocently, but the slight devious smirk said it had had just the right effect. Jealousy boiled up inside Bakura again, an irritable emotion he couldn't seem to just ignore.

Besides, Malik was his, he'd already made that explicitly clear, the kid should respect that by now.

"_Len-chan?_ I got news for you kid, she's out of your league by a long shot, even if she lets you call her by her first name," Bakura said darkly, though he let up on Malik just enough to twist around and take a careful look to assess any damage he might have done the girl.

It wasn't her he cared about, or even Malik's concern for her, he just knew that suspension was unavoidable as soon as a girl was involved. Thankfully, other than apparent psychological trauma from what she'd just witnessed, 'Len-chan' was faithfully looking over her notes with an almost frantic disinterest in what was going on between them. She may have high scores, but she was no match for Bakura's aggression.

"Ra, what's your problem? Slapping girls is just wrong," Malik told him, giving him a dirty look, and completely ignoring his comment about the girl being out of his league. In reality, he felt no attraction to her, but obviously this was a good way to get to Bakura.

He wasn't sure if Bakura actually liked him, but he definitely thought he was his personal possession at the moment, despite the way he'd treated him this morning.

"_Ra,_ you know what my fucking problem is you little bastard," Bakura snarled bitterly, releasing him jerkily from his pin, and moving away to cross his arms irritably.

Now that immediate threat from Jinoto-san was out of the way, he was pissed at Malik for getting him wound up and making his head pound more and even more pissed for letting himself _get_ wound up.

Manipulative little bastard obviously needed a shorter leash...

"Well if you have such a problem with me, maybe you should stop acting like you own this," Malik snapped back saucily as he sat up, rubbing his arms gingerly as he gestured with his other hand to his tanned, gorgeous body.

"I do though," Bakura responded automatically, feeling snubbed, though he should have known better than to think Malik would take easily to being ordered around. Reluctantly, he realized this was the most attractive part about the kid.

He was saucy, he was annoying as hell, but he never caved in easily, and that made him interesting.

"Nobody owns me, I can flirt with whoever I want, whenever I want, _ka-chan,_" Malik continued, mocking him with the affection term for mother, though he missed the way Bakura stiffened at the mention of his ka-san.

Unlike Ryou though, he wasn't one to show any sensitivities to the subject.

"Besides, I never said I was interested in guys, unlike some people."

It was this last comment that pushed Bakura over the edge. How dare he act superior, like he knew a thing about himself when he was just as 'confused' as any other might-be-straight-might-be-gay teenager?

At least Bakura could admit when he wanted something, Malik insisted on beating around the proverbial bush and act like king of the fucking world on his little self-righteous pedestal.

Narrowing his eyes murderously, he found his brain providing him with just the right words to rip the kid apart and leave his ego shredded and bleeding. It was a skill, ruining people's moral, one Bakura possessed in surplus.

It had saved him from a thieving opportunity gone-wrong many times. Snatching the collar of the young blond Egyptian again, he yanked him closer, staring straight into his too-bright lavender eyes as he got ready to let him have it.

"You think _I _have problems? You think you're anything to me? My problem's are nothing compared to" –

"Ryou's."

Bakura's rage was stopped so abruptly that the thief actually felt out of balance for a moment, similar to when he'd first walked into the room, and scrambled for the right emotion to react with.

On Malik's part, he realized too late that he'd pushed Bakura a little too far this time, and really made him snap. The energy that had been buoying him all morning took control of the nervous reaction to Bakura's stark anger, and landed on the first sign of salvation –Ryou attempting to communicate with an unhappy Mariku.

Realizing he'd manage to defuse Bakura's anger with confusion for the moment, he wriggled out of his grasp which had been iron-clad moments before, and let his nervous energy carry him a bouncing step closer to the other couple.

"Ryou's probably going to get himself smacked if he keeps provoking Mariku when he's like this," he added, just going with the situation, though it looked more like Ryou was doing a fairly decent, if slightly nervous, job of consoling the irritable Mariku.

Bakura allowed his gaze to stray warily towards his brother, and Malik was relieved that his overprotective attitude for Ryou won out over his overprotective attitude towards Malik.

The thought that Bakura was overprotective of Malik as his, ah, friend, brought a thrill to Malik's insides, followed closely by a wave of self-disgust. That fact _definitely_ shouldn't make him so happy, after all.

But it did. It still did, and that was terrifying to him.

Luckily, the nervous energy that had been trying to burst out of him all morning sent his thoughts spinning in a different direction, as Ryou put a hesitant hand on Mariku's broadly muscled back.

"Awe, they're almost cute together now," he cooed in a far too cutsie way for Bakura's taste, and he showed it was with a confused purse to his lips. Did Ryou hit him on the head when he woke him up this morning, or was he just PMSing?

He must have, because the proud kid was now all but skipping towards the other two –only to abruptly stop half way there. All these stops and starts and confusing actions were making Bakura's head throb in a way that had nothing to do with his hang over –and that was totally not attractive to him.

Doing a 180, Marik glanced at him with a look that confused Bakura even more, though it was fairly attractive, if you found big soul-sucking, glossy, lavender eyes, and a puckered lip and...

Okay, you get the picture, it was fairly attractive, and it was drawing Bakura towards him like a bee to honey.

Or a horny teenage boy with an irritating crush on a sexy bratty kid with attitude in the surplus, whichever you prefer.

"Aren't you coming, 'Kura?" Marik offered a little too innocently, given his earlier actions, though Bakura was having difficulty keeping any of his actions this particular morning straight. His gold winked invitingly as he raised one tan hand to beckon his harsh 'friend' closer, and the kleptomaniac in Bakura nearly drooled at the sight.

He started to take one intoxicated step forward, and then froze, as the memory from the night before rose unbidden in the very slight haze of his memory. After all, he hadn't been so drunk as to not be able to remember the way he'd been coerced so humiliatingly...and maybe a little skilfully.

But only a little. Not so well that he'd fall for something so simple again, and with that thought, he regarded the offered hand with some suspicion.

It was one thing to be made a fool of in front of Mariku and Ryou, they barely counted, but with other students actually in the room, would Malik really...?

Bakura never got the chance to decipher for himself whether or not Malik would really attempt to humiliate him in public, because Malik was quick to notice his hesitation.

Scowling slightly, ruining the adorable...err...attractive...look on his concerned face, he dropped his hand to his side with an exasperated, "Fine, don't."

Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Ryou leaning in attentively to hear whatever Mariku was grumbling about now, as though his words were golden, and the curious phenomenon had his attention immediately.

Wasn't it just yesterday that Mariku's very voice scared the hell out of the sweet, slightly unstable whitette? What had happened to crumble the barriers between them?

It couldn't have just been that 'birthday kiss' they shared, Ryou hadn't seemed that confident earlier in the evening. Even as Malik watched absorbedly though, beginning to move back towards them, he noted the way Ryou would lean forward and then wriggle away a little bit, seeming nervous, before inching closer again in a constant tug of war, seemingly with himself.

It didn't seem to be helping the irritated look on Mariku's tired face that was for sure. Bakura saw this as well –only he saw less of that, and more of Malik walking away from him like the stubborn idiot he was.

And unfortunately, Bakura realized this time he had a right to be, since he'd just blown his first willing invitation to show any public affection.

Stomping over, Bakura caught up in only a few steps, raised one pale hand to smack the back of his infuriating blond head. Malik whined at the sudden interruption to his thoughts, glaring up at him from under his bangs with spitefully flashing eyes as he rubbed his head gingerly.

Bakura merely grunted, taking the opportunity to snatch up the hand and pull it close to his own side possessively.

"Stop being such a Goddamn social butterfly," he snapped, though he refused to release a now slightly confused Malik's hand, avoiding his questioning looks awkwardly.

Quickly realizing Bakura's motivation for this sudden turn of events, Malik snickered cruelly, swinging their connected hands teasingly.

"Someone was jealous ~!" He sang in a, thankfully, subdued voice, but Bakura chose to glare at him anyways.

"I was not" –really, by this point Bakura should have expected the switch of attention, but it still unnerved him when Malik's neck practically snapped, as he whipped his attention over to Ryou and Mariku again, who were locked in yet another slightly-nervous-slightly-suggestive-slightly-fucked-up staring contest.

Ignoring Bakura's grumbling protests, he yanked the other boy along behind him as he bounded the rest of the way across the room enthusiastically. Almost like a puppy, or a kitty on catnip.

The 'kitty' image was only strengthened when Malik practically purred in delight over his new found entertainment –Ryou playing nervous peacekeeper between his love interest, whom he still seemed slightly terrified of, and, well, everything that made noise.

Bakura felt a small sense of amusement for the first time this morning, as he watched a strangely hyper Malik pestering his nii-san relentlessly to try and make him crack, while Ryou jumped all over the place frantically.

He might have found it more annoying, but either the Aspirin was taking effect, or Malik's hand still loosely nestled in his own was having that oddly pacifying effect on his temper. Nope, _definitely _the Aspirin, he had never been the hand holding type, after all.

Of course, he'd never had a crush before either, but it couldn't be that different.

Bakura's hadn't really been following what Malik was firing off on his nii-san, but when Mariku finally broke down and snapped back, Bakura was interested he didn't just tell him to fuck off or snipe at his ego, he simply said in a dark tone, "Looks like someone forgot something this morning."

A cursory glance at Ryou's face told him that he was just as perplexed as Bakura himself was, though he showed it much more openly.

Turning his gaze to Malik to see how he'd react to this rather telling comment, he was frustrated to see that Malik merely looked confused and suspicious as well. The suspicion grew on his face along with Mariku's suddenly very entertained grin when he glanced down at his forearms, upper arms, touched his neck –yes, all of his gold was there.

Malik's fingers were just encircling his ear, checking for the heavy earrings that swung from them tantalizingly, when he gave a sudden gasp of horror, hands flying to his tanned cheeks.

Giving an abrupt about-face, he rushed to the window, practically flying over Mariku and his desk in order to zip past the next two, bringing him face to face with the window.

Bakura frowned in, what else this morning? More confusion, and dawdled behind him, trying not to show his own curiosity in whatever had Malik so worked up now. The slender, tan kid swiped at the condensation on the window, hurriedly clearing a patch so that he could gaze upon his own luscious features.

Now, Bakura knew Malik was exotic, obviously undeniably attractive to many, himself included, and that snarky attitude, full of confidence and haughtiness, repelled some, but only pulled Bakura closer.

It must have something to do with the way he acted like he was king of the world even when he was outclassed and utterly confused even inside his own body. So, naturally, Bakura had chalked up his exotic appearance to being, well, exotic, literally, and his faux-confidence to come from his sexual confusion.

Coming face to face with is reflection, Malik moaned in despair, features clouding over as he wrung his own cheeks in a fit of childish frustration.

Bakura would have taken the opportunity to make a comment on his pathetic behaviour, but Malik quickly covered his initial despair with a tantrum of anger that had Bakura's head ringing all over again.

It took him awhile to grasp that his melodramatic melt down had to do with the unbroken tan color of his cheeks, save a few kohl smears that didn't come close to forming the deep black curving lines usually painted underneath his dazzling lavender eyes.

In fact, Bakura remembered wiping away some of the smeared, black...stuff...off himself last night. He knew next to nothing about makeup himself, but it surprised him to see how Malik couldn't seem to stand his own reflection with the kohl markings.

He vaguely recalled Mariku once explaining their traditional meaning, but neither he nor Malik seemed deeply swayed by their Egyptian heritage, save their use of the word 'Ra' which Bakura assumed was a sort of God.

No, that wasn't quite right, he did remember commenting that this 'Ra' looked something like a giant golden chicken once when Mariku showed him a statue, and the comment was followed by a round of brawling with an infuriated Mariku.

It was back when they had first met though, and Bakura simply stored it away as part of Mariku's...instability. Was that really why Malik was so upset to be caught without the traditional markings?

Or was it a sign that he was less confident in his own appearance than he pretended?

Or was he really just a total fruit, after all?

Bakura preferred the latter, as an unconfident Malik was an unattractive one, even if he was being a girl about his lack of makeup.

As for the religious connotations...well, Bakura wasn't about to ask, the kid didn't like talking about his past in Egypt, and Bakura didn't care enough to deal with anymore of his annoying tantrums.

Slipping a hand into his pocket, he felt two bottles rolling inside, and he grabbed the first, glancing to confirm that it was the aspirin he had more or less stolen from the Ishtar's foster parents' medicine cabinet.

Tossing it behind him, he heard it rattle on the floor, and Ryou's exasperated sound as the projectile landed somewhere on the classroom floor. Bakura knew his twin would pick it up though, and be grateful when it kept Mariku from killing something.

The second cool, glassy bottle in his pocket was retrieved with his right hand while his left shot up to cover Malik's mouth from behind, pulling the slender Egyptian back against his own body. They aligned so perfectly...ugh, even Bakura was starting to think like a fruit now.

Obviously he'd spent too much time of late with Mariku and Ryou.

Malik made a disgruntled noise, finding his tirade interrupted, and Bakura wisely chose to explain his actions before he the kid decided it would be a good idea to bite him. Not that Bakura had a problem with biting, just preferably not his hand.

Removing it hastily, Malik spun to give him a piece of his mind, but Bakura beat him to it.

"Oh, shut it, I brought your bloody makeup with me," he grumbled just gruffly enough to hide the slight kindness, as he stuffed the glassy bottle into those slender hands.

If Bakura had been the cutie-blushing type, he might have shown some reaction to the way those lavender eyes brightened like chips of stained glass, but, as it was, he only felt his ego grow as Malik unintentionally stroked it.

And, alright, perhaps the slightest of smirks was finding its way to his mouth, when, go figure, Malik's face fell again. Good Lord, this kid put the last word in mood swings. Right when Bakura was starting to think there might be some good to being attracted to males...

"What? What is your bloody problem now?" He snapped irritably, and Malik just looked up at him morosely.

"Bakura...thanks but...how am I suppose to put it on?" He whined, and Bakura scoffed, looking away uncomfortably. This wasn't exactly his forte.

"Why are you asking me? I'm not a woman; I don't carry a mirror in my bag. Why don't you check your purse?" He sneered, mocking the young Egyptian mercilessly. All this talk about makeup and girl shit was bringing his headache back.

Malik glowered at him, before turning on his heel and all but zipping back to Mariku and Ryou's side. Just like that.

Blink, he was there, blink, he was gone.

How in the hell was he doing that?

By the time Bakura made it back over, Malik was knee deep in the process of begging his nii-san to apply the girly shit to his pathetic little face.

"Malik...maybe you should just give it up for now...maybe he'll be in a better mood by lunch," Ryou offered nervously, backing away a bit from the cranky Mariku. The battle between supporting his friend and fear of Mariku, which evidently had not disappeared entirely, was waging full scale.

Right when it seemed fear might win, Mariku finally spoke up with more than an annoyed growl.

"Fine, I'll do it, brat," he spat, face all but twitching with self-restraint. Ryou looked a little stunned and frightened of his fierce tone, and Bakura could merely raise an impassive eyebrow, as Malik danced around in oblivious glee.

He knew for a fact that Mariku had long ago gotten sick of the painting on the traditional marks every morning, and merely gone out to get them tattooed on permanently. With no real parents hovering over him, the only person he had to answer to was his fellow foster 'nee-san' who may have disapproved of the choice, but couldn't argue with the fact that it meant Mariku would never forget to put on his 'Ra-damned black shit' ever again.

Without the need to do it himself anymore, Bakura couldn't quite comprehend his motivation for agreeing to help his nii-san, since kindness was impossible, and desire to shut him up highly unlikely since the aggressive Egyptian's idea of shutting someone up was punching their lights out.

This was explained as a sly expression slid flawlessly onto Mariku's face, glancing between Ryou and Malik again before adding, "I'll do it, if I can do them on Ryou as well."

Malik shrugged, as though the concept couldn't matter less to him, and it successfully snapped Ryou out of his stupor.

Glancing at the two Ishtar's curiously, he said in a nervous voice, "Are you sure that's okay? I mean, I don't mind much, but I'm not really religious, and...well, I wouldn't want to intrude on any customs."

Bakura rolled his mahogany eyes. Only Ryou would say 'sure' so politely.

"Yah, yah, you see anyone here who's going to bust you for it? And the brat won't complain if he doesn't want me to toss this out the window," Mariku said casually, tossing Malik a barbed glare, receiving a withering look in return.

"Well...I guess...you should do Malik's first though," Ryou said softly, looking between the two Ishtar's with a shy nervousness. Obviously, he was worried the Egyptian SWAT team was going to come bursting into the school for Mariku's blatant disregard for any cultural and religious guidelines.

For the next five minutes, there was mercifully little fidgeting from Malik, though that was most likely due to the fact that, despite its girly outer appearance, Mariku still managed to hold the tiny kohl brush like it was a deadly sharp dagger.

There was only one small disturbance, and that was when Bakura made the mistake of taking a step closer to look at what exactly Mariku was doing to his Egyptian's face. Call him possessive, but if he was giving him black eyes, Mariku would be receiving one of his own.

Not that Bakura cared how Malik felt about his face per-say, he just wanted to be able to see it in all it's sun kissed glory.

At that same moment, Malik's eyes flew open piercing him with a surprised look, and causing Mariku to pull back hastily with an Arabic curse for the near accident.

"What?" Malik asked innocently, "I can't sit still when he's looming over me like that. Especially now that I know he's got a knife on him, there's just something creepy about that."

"Oh, please, you're scared of a little knife?" Bakura scoffed, and Malik beamed him with one of his classic scowls.

"Just sit down," he snapped, losing the pouty tone, and the regularity of it on this particularly irregular morning surprised Bakura just enough that he did, in fact, sit down.

Mariku glanced over at him with a snicker, and commented, "Aren't you just his little bitch this morning? If I didn't know better, I'd say he actually let you get some last night."

"I never said _you_ shouldn't be scared of my knife," Bakura snarled back, and Mariku just shrugged the threat off, turning back to his work which was nearly finished now. They were practically commonplace between the two by this point.

With two more careful strokes, Mariku pulled the brush away for the last time, before unceremoniously tossing his nii-san out of the chair. Malik scrambled to keep his balance, directing a glare first at Mariku, and then at the snicker coming from Bakura's direction.

The snicker abruptly cut off as the usually harsh albino was struck by how much darker and fiercer those eyes looked with the black kohl marks. Malik took an uncertain step closer, neither noticing as Mariku manhandled Ryou into Malik's former chair.

Bakura felt his heart rate increase, and a frown wrinkled his face irritably. Why did it feel the need to do that now?

"Did he do them wrong?" Malik asked in a nervously suspicious tone, though Bakura flattered himself to believe it was their proximity that was giving the kid that reaction.

"No," was Bakura's blunt, unintentionally cryptic response. Well, he wasn't about to inflate the kid's ego by telling him how those bold lavender eyes were doing something strangely cheesy to Bakura's insides.

No, Bakura wasn't the type for such mushy confessions. Though with Malik's head cocked curiously like that, his lips puckered into a confused expression, eyes piercing his own...it would be a lie to say that he didn't feel an intense urge to kiss him right there.

In a moment, Bakura's annoyance vanished, replaced by a mix of alien butterfly sensations, a pounding heart, and flicker of lust for his crush. The next moment he was moving forward, unable to resist his instincts...and the next moment the boy had vanished.

Again. Gone!

"What the fuck...?" Bakura growled to himself, blinking in disorientation, as the moment was suddenly lost. Did he not feel any of that?

Not that Bakura cared, but surely Marik would have at least left with a sarcastic comment of 'disgust', had he suspected Bakura was going to kiss him in public like that.

Simply walking away mid almost-kiss wasn't his style. Glaring around the room, Bakura finally located him chatting amiably with a couple students a couple feet away, making wide hand gestures.

They looked a little confused at his sudden friendliness, but otherwise were communicating with him. Bakura's natural reaction was to let jealous control him as it had earlier and walk over to slap some sense into the kid –but his cooler, rational side told him to bide his time.

After all, fighting phantoms would only make himself look like a fool, he needed Malik to really mess up if he wanted to justify any actions. Thieves didn't take rash actions, they thought carefully before they struck, but when they did, they didn't settle for second best.

In a moment, he was gratefully he decided to wait things out, because Malik's head snapped up, looking back in Mariku's direction. Immediately, he was bouncing back over to his nii-san's side, leaving his prior conversationalists utterly confused, watching him go as though he had lost it.

Bakura was starting to think maybe he had.

Again, he chose to simply watch the events unfold instead of intervening, as Malik approached Mariku and Ryou, the latter of whom was gingerly touching freshly painted cheeks.

Mariku reached out and swatted Ryou's hands away, making him yelp in surprise, though it succeeded in making him stop touching the still wet markings.

"If you touch them, they'll smear all over your face, like ink on paper," he said in as passive a tone as could be expected from Mariku, and Ryou's reaction was also to be expected: he nodded furiously and tucked his hands in his lap, as though Mariku might bite them off if they moved an inch closer to his painted cheeks.

"Oi, don't look like that," Mariku grumbled, wearily taking note of his all but terrified expression.

"He wouldn't if you weren't always scaring the pants off everyone," Malik commented, popping up at his side, startling Ryou, but barely receiving a raised eyebrow from Mariku. He was the only of the other three boys who seemed to be taking this personality adjustment in stride.

"Trust me, if I could actually scare the pants off of him, we wouldn't be sitting around here, we'd still be in bed screwing like bunnies," he replied with a sarcastic snort.

Ryou's fawn eyes widened, and though the kohl markings didn't take away from their cute, childish, glow, it brought out some of the darker dregs of fear in his face.

Malik shivered; there were shadows there that normally were hidden by his lilywhite skin and girlish looks. Somehow the kohl markings made an ominous difference against all that white.

"I-I'm not scared...Mariku," Ryou pronounced in a purposefully determined way, his good-hearted nature fighting those dark shadows valiantly.

"So you don't want to screw him, than?" Malik questioned in a mischievously innocent, and Ryou turned bright red.

"Um...well, I...I just..." Mariku glared at his nii-san darkly, while Ryou attempted to make a coherent sentence.

"Dumbass," he snapped, slapping the back of his blond head none too gently. Malik yelped, and rubbed the back of his head gingerly.

"What was that for?" He asked, though not until after he'd stepped out of ass-kicking range. Not even Bakura was foolhardy enough to take on an angry Mariku.

"Don't bring up screwing around Ryou," dark mauve eyes flickered guiltily in the other boy's direction, "it bothers him."

"But you were the one who" –

"I wasn't talking about _me_, I was talking about _you_, brat," Mariku ground out, giving Malik his deadliest, near-psycho stare. It was just an excuse though, and they both knew it.

Mariku knew better than to bring up screwing or anything remotely to do with his and Ryou's physical relationship, but he still did it anyways.

That kiss from the other night was still eating away at his mind, making him want to touch and be near the whitette more than ever. He still didn't know why it bothered the other boy to such an extent, but it was one of the things that was most likely to set off one of his bizarre panic attacks.

Luckily, Sato-sensei chose that moment to make her appearance, which immediately put students in order as they scrambled for their seats.

Ryou lurched upwards out of his trance, obviously afraid to get caught in the wrong seat, but Mariku grabbed his arm, holding him in place for long enough to catch his eye. Ryou cringed automatically, an influx of memories barely faded by time assaulting his brain.

He had been in this position too many times to think anything good what come of it. Widened milk chocolate eyes met narrowed dark purple irises, and Ryou waited for the whispered threat...but it never came.

"Ra, are you really still so scared that this freaks you out? It was a joke," Mariku scoffed, and Ryou looked away shamefully, going limp in his grasp.

What was wrong with him today? Just yesterday he'd been fine with feeling Mariku up, even going so far as to share a passionate kiss. Mariku wasn't finished yet though.

"Besides, you shouldn't look so...you know...whatever, the black shit actually looks good on you, unlike on the brat, he just looks like a girl," Mariku told him in a dismissive tone, but it earned a small giggle from Ryou, and a smile that ate away at the dregs of his short episode.

It wasn't much, but it was as close to a compliment as Mariku gave, anyways.

"I do not," Malik snapped back at his nii-san in his sassiest tone. It was probably the most normal thing he'd said or done so far this morning.

"Shut up, you're ruining the moment," Mariku growled, and Ryou flushed at his use of the term 'moment'.

Did this qualify as a moment? Well, Mariku was holding him offal closely, and he was saying, err, somewhat nice things...

Malik was apparently following this uncertain train of thought, because he responded with a slight smirk, "This is what you call a 'moment'? You have a thing or two to learn about romance, nii-san."

"I said shut up!" Mariku raged again and, apparently in the grasp of his little 'moment', yanked Ryou closer. The delicate boy gave a small cry of alarm, which was quickly cut off by Mariku's lips meeting his own solidly.

It didn't exactly come with the bang, boom, pop of fireworks and confetti, unless awkwardly jamming his knees against Mariku's tightly, muscled legs and chair counted, but Ryou certainly wouldn't call the sensation...unpleasant.

A little on the rough side, a little terrifying, yes, but overall he kind of liked the feel of Mariku's chapped lips moving against his own in a needy, desirous way. He'd never pegged himself for a kissing addict the way Bakura seemed to be sometimes, but gosh, this thrilling feeling could hook anyone.

It may have only been ten glorious seconds, but it was just long enough to catch the attention of some of their classmates, or so Ryou realized when someone made a gagging noise loud enough to break through his kiss induced haze.

Jerking back from the impromptu kiss, he tried to stumble backwards, but Mariku still had an iron grip on his arm.

"Touzoku-san, I really would have expected better from you," a weary feminine voice called across the room, and Ryou turned beat red when he realized it was Sato-sensei calling him out.

Actually, he was a little surprised she wasn't snapping at Mariku for grabbing him like that in an obviously inappropriate display of public affection.

It was only when he realized that, with his legs jammed awkwardly around Mariku's and his body half collapsed over the larger, stronger Egyptian's, that it probably looked like _Ryou _was the one to instigate the kissing.

"O-oh, I didn't…I mean, I wouldn't…err, I apologize, Sato-sensei, I didn't mean to…well…" He couldn't quite bring himself to spit out 'jump another student of the same gender', though it was obvious all the other student's knew what he was choking on, because they started to titter amongst themselves, eyeing the two boys with either disgust or goo-goo expressions.

It didn't help that Mariku was all but grinning his tanned face off with pride. It was only or the sake of Ryou's fragile 'condition' that he didn't put on a real show for their shocked audience.

"Just don't let it happen" –

"Excuse me, Sato-sensei?" The woman in question seemed to grow wearier at the sound of the interrupting voice which she had become very familiar with, very quickly.

"Yes, Ishtar-san?" She questioned, trying valiantly to sound less like she'd like to be gulping down a whole bottle of Ibuprofen.

"I don't think what they were doing was wrong, and you really can't blame Ryou-_senpai_ since nii-san was the instigator. Besides, class hasn't even officially started yet, if they were a girl and boy, you probably would have just turned a blind eye to them."

Bakura raised an eyebrow, silently settling into his own seat. This was strangely Malik like in comparison to the rest of the boy's behaviour so far today. Arguing over something so meaningless just to prove he had a superior intellect…yes, that was very Malik-like.

"I meant no disrespect to same-sex relationships, I was simply trying to smooth over the disruption of school policy so that perhaps" –she was cut off by the chime of a bell. Giving the alarm system on the wall a withering look, she then moved her gaze back to Malik and finished in an acidy tone, "_perhaps_ we might start on time for once. Now please, Ishtar-san, Touzoku-san, return to your desks so we can start today's lesson."

Ryou had long ago crept back over to his desk to hide his face in absolute shame, so the comment was mostly directed toward Malik, who was quick to zip right over to his desk.

"Ishtar-san, please try walking next time," Sato-sensei called out as patiently as ever, though the frustration mounted on her features as Malik replied sassily with, "it hardly matters, since I'm already sitting."

Sato-sensei seemed about to respond, but caught herself before she fell into the trap of another senseless argument with the cheeky younger Ishtar. They could stretch a good fifteen minutes, and by then not only had she lost control of the class, it had taken a good portion of the lesson time away as well.

Stepping up to her podium, she ordered the class to pull out their notes from the last day, and the other students obeyed for the most part, with the exception of Mariku, who was taking up his usual hobby of staring at Ryou, and Bakura.

The latter didn't have the best work ethic in the room, but it was hardly his fault in this case. For one thing, the perplexing issue of Malik's behaviour was still weighing heavily on his mind, and for another, that behaviour hadn't suddenly stopped when the younger boy sat down at his desk.

First it was the tapping of his pencil, then flicking of his earring when he was told to stop that, then squirming in his seat when none of that satisfied his apparent lack of focus.

Though his notebook was out, it seemed unlikely he was taking any notes, either, and Malik was usually a surprisingly diligent student. He had to be if he'd made his way into one of the senior classes, and it seemed unlikely he was able to do that if this was his normal attitude.

Bakura felt his shoulders hunch practically up to his ears as Malik scooted back in his chair, causing the metal legs to screech on the tiles. After a little bit more shifting, Bakura slowly relaxed –only to hear another ear-bleeding screech as Malik moved again.

That was it, whatever was wrong with him was getting fucking annoying, and Bakura was going to find out what, or that kid was going to end up dead before the day was done.

**A/N: So…how was that? Long enough to atone for my even longer silence? Too OOC? Too random? Is anyone actually still reading this? Also, chapter dedications for anyone who can guess what's wrong with Malik ;) I know I left a whole bunch of hints as to what this chapter would hold, but realizing how ridiculously long it was getting, I decided to wait and spread it out over a couple chapters, so don't worry, the fish and car 'trouble' is still to come!**


	24. A Haunting Shame

**A/N: Yayyy ~! I'm so relieved, you want to know why? (Probably not, but Imma tell you anyways!) ONE of (the many lovely) reviewers actually guessed what was wrong with Malik! I was getting worried that I made it too difficult...but, coincidentally, this same person was also my 200th reviewer, and that person is the fantastic LadySunami! You're awesome, and I love that you actually figured out what was wrong with our very distracted Egyptian! And if you haven't figured it out yourself yet, well, here's the chapter that will give you the answer! ^_~***

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

It seemed to take far too long, but at long last Sato-sensei called a break for private work. Several students gathered at different desks to catch up on notes they'd missed while gossiping about the class's surprising gay 'couple', or quietly work together on the assigned seat work.

Bakura couldn't care less about Mariku's little disruption at the moment though, Ryou hadn't exactly been complaining anyways, and Malik's problem was far more interesting to him. And annoying. And in far greater need of resolution.

Spinning around, he faced the desk behind Mariku which housed the younger Egyptian, who was currently scratching away with his pencil furiously. At first, as Bakura stood from his desk warily, he thought perhaps the boy had suddenly come to his senses and was trying desperately to catch up on his notes.

A moment later, he was rolling his eyes in disgust when he realized the flurry of action was directed towards a mere doodle on his paper. Marching over, Bakura slammed one pale hand down on the paper, ripping it away from Malik.

Giving a cry of injustice, Malik stood from his seat, lunging after the oh-so-important lost paper, only to be met with a rock hard hand in his chest, all but throwing him back in his seat.

Taking advantage of the slightly winded pause in Malik's actions, Bakura barked, "for the love of all that is holy, keep your bloody arse in your seat for five bloody seconds!" Malik blinked at him with wide, innocent eyes, startled into stillness for the first time in many, many minutes.

"Bakura," Ryou chided, sounding appalled at his direct rudeness, as he jumped up out of his seat to cross quietly over to the others. With his obsession approaching, Mariku quickly tuned in, spinning to face the other three eagerly, though Ryou kept a safe, nervous distance from him.

Bakura muttered something that sounds distinctly like, "bloody Egyptians", and, "more trouble than they're worth".

"Hey," Malik whined in an injured tone, only to be pegged by yet another fierce, crimson glare.

"What in the hell did you put on your cereal this morning anyways?" Bakura growled in a slightly more subdued voice to put Ryou's mind to rest.

"Thanks to a certain hung over someone, I didn't even get breakfast, let alone something as filling as cereal," Malik mourned, one hand on his stomach in a wistful way.

Bakura rolled his eyes and was about to explain the concept of a rhetorical question to the kid, but Mariku beat him to it with a predatory grin, as he said, "I don't think it was only cereal you missed out on this morning."

"Mariku!" Ryou was beginning to sound like he was at the end of his rope this morning between the exasperation Mariku and Bakura were presenting, and Malik's irritating behaviour.

"Oh come on, Ryou, even you must have noticed that this is weird even for _him_," Bakura drawled to his nii-san, giving Malik a look that said _disagree and you're going to be taking the issue up with my knife. _

"Well…perhaps your behaviour has been a little bit…difficult, this morning, Malik," Ryou said delicately, flushing miserably, as Malik had the audacity to look offended.

"What? I don't know what all of you are going on about. I'm perfectly fine. In fact, all _I_ want to know is when Sato-sensei is announcing the project partners for our culminating assignment," Malik snapped back, only receiving blinks in response to his words.

Well, Mariku snickered, but the Touzoku twins just look dumbfounded by the hypocrisy of that statement.

"That's exactly what we mean, Malik," Bakura deadpanned.

"What, it's abnormal that I want to know about an assignment?"

"It's abnormal that you're talking about an assignment that has _nothing _to do with our conversation," Ryou burst out, looking flustered by all the confusion and tension in the small circle.

Immediately, Malik became defensive, as he shot back, "Well, I was just thinking…I was thinking about…um…" He trailed off, looking a little bit confused himself.

"Yes, you certainly are _forgetful_ today, nii-san," Mariku teased wickedly, and Malik glared at him scornfully.

"Look, would you let that go? At least it's on now, and I didn't forget" –part way through his sentence, Malik stopped with a groan, and Bakura was tempted to groan as well, sensing another redirection in the conversation –but at last, this was the one he had been waiting for.

"What is it Malik?" Ryou asked, trying to sound concerned instead of relieved.

"Probably more than just his makeup," Bakura commented dryly, looking to Mariku suspiciously, who leered back sadistically. It was painfully obvious he had known all morning exactly what Malik had evidently 'forgotten' this morning.

"Mariku? Fill us in," Bakura demanded, when firmly poking Malik several times yielded no results except for some mumble curses.

"Don't you dare," Malik hissed, looking up with narrowed eyes, though it didn't hide the violent shade of pink in his cheeks. You'd think having tan skin would hide such a thing, but no, he was nearly as red as Ryou was after Mariku kissed him so abruptly.

"Well than _you_ fill us in, and stop being such a girl about it. Just spit it out before you burst a blood vessel," Bakura continued to goad, getting a half-hearted reprimanding look from Ryou, though it was hardly valid since he clearly wanted to know as much as the next person.

Malik groaned again into his hands, but mumbled out a somewhat coherent answer. Unfortunately, mumbling wasn't going to cut it for Bakura's impatient ears.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you," Bakura pronounced in a purposefully loud voice. Malik's head shot up, giving him a flustered glare, as he looked around for anyone who might be listening in.

"Would you keep it down?" He hissed, and Bakura smirked in a telling way. It was obvious he only planned to keep it down if Malik was willing to fess up.

Malik grumbled discontentedly, still glancing around guiltily before fixing his gaze on the desk and saying in a shameful tone, "I guess I just forgot to take my meds this morning. You know, cause I've got…" Malik trailed off, tracing a finger around a pattern in the wood of his desk.

Eyeing this action carefully and not wanting his nii-san to be any more insensitive with the boy than he had been already, Ryou supplied in a kind voice, "ADHD, right?"

"Yah…" Malik admitted with a small miserable sigh, sinking down in his chair more.

Bakura felt surprised, but not at the fact that Malik had the disorder. Maybe he would have been if he had found out yesterday, but after watching him buzz around all morning? It was hardly shocking.

What was perhaps a little surprising was the shame and embarrassment he obviously felt over it. It seemed like nearly every kid had ADD or ADHD now, and rarely did anyone pay it any mind. In contrast though, the shame was sending Malik spiralling off his seemingly-permanent high horse.

What could have made him feel so strongly about such a simple-to-fix problem?

"Look, kid, it's not the end of the world," he grumbled uncomfortably, avoiding Malik's suddenly hopeful gaze. Looked like even shame wasn't holding his disorder at bay. "Just go home at lunch break and pop your pill or whatever and the problems fixed."

Malik's face fell all over again, and Ryou gave him a blank look as well.

"What?" Bakura growled irritably, wondering how his one attempt to be somewhat sensitive could also go awry. "It's just a pill, right?"

"Yes, Bakura, but how do you think he's going to get home that quickly without his motorcycle?" Ryou said slowly, pointing out the obvious flaw in the plan.

Shit. He was right.

Bakura _had_ rushed them out the door this morning, and even promised to drive Malik home after school. Damn his hangover, it would have been much simpler if the kid had just had his bike here.

"Well...Mariku, you drove yourself to school after you stormed out, didn't you?" Bakura asked, confident he'd found a way out of taking total responsibility for the predicament.

"You think I'm going to drive the brat back for his meds?" Mariku asked, quirking an eyebrow upwards.

"There was a time when you would have," Malik blurted out, then moaned and slammed his forehead off the desk, grumbling obscenities in a dark murmur.

"Yah, when you would've gotten a strip of your flesh torn off for forgetting. As much as I didn't mind, your bitching did get annoying, but seeing as this is a one time thing, I think I'm just going to enjoy your misery," Mariku said nastily.

Ryou gave him a look like he couldn't quite believe what had just come out of his mouth, and Bakura looked to Malik, who looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him.

A strip of his flesh, huh? That would explain his back, his mini-explosion about his abusive otou-san, and his apparent shame over such a common disorder. He'd just have to ask for conformation later, but it seemed to be the most likely explanation.

He paused in his internal thoughts, looking guiltily at Malik's unhappy face that was all but twitching as he tried to control his impulse to run and look at each new distraction.

"Oh…fine, damnit, I'll do it," Bakura finally spat, looking as though the words burned painfully somewhere deep in his little black heart.

"…What?" Malik questioned, brushing sandy bangs out of his eyes with an innocently confused expression on his face. Bakura couldn't possibly be offering…

"I'll drive you back to your house on lunch break. As long as it gets me some bloody peace and quiet," he grumbled, quick to add that last so the offer didn't sound _too_ kind.

"Really?" Malik asked, another few rays of hope scattering across his face, and Bakura mumbled a yes, avoiding both Ryou and Mariku's incredulous gazes, as he tried to hide the stupid flip flopping feeling in the pit off his stomach.

What the hell was that supposed to be? Girls were always giggling and whispering about it in corners, as though they thought no one would hear them. Some sort of animal…dolphins? Moths? Something wriggly anyways, and it wasn't pleasant.

Hopefully, giving the kid this ride would vanish the feeling. Yes, just a ride there and then straight back to school. Simple enough.

**A/N: Butterflies, Bakura! Really, dolphins? Bloody dolphins? Ah, that was just too much fun to write, sorry if it seemed random xD I hope this (QUICKLY UPDATED) chapter was enjoyable to you all, even if it was a bit short, the next one it very long, and very close to completion already, so I should back on my weekly schedule again! Huzzah!**


	25. Charming and Handsome

**A/N: Okay, so, funny thing happened...I woke up this morning and was like whaaat? It's already Wednesday? How did that happen? And then...yah, then I felt guilty, so I rushed through editing this so that I could post it right away! Anyways, other than my apparent lack of ability to figure out what day of the week it is when I don't have to go to school...Elle is updating regularly againnn ~! Yah, that's right, I'm back, so don't write this story off just yet ;) Hope you all like this chapter, I've been writing none stop so that I can have knew chapters ready every week! And it also happens to be summer break, so I have no life and nothing to do but finish this story for you guys!**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine! **

Malik dragged his feet, feeling his stomach drop as someone came hurtling in from outside, throwing the door wide open. It made it difficult to kill time opening it.

Why was he killing time?

Because he was nervous.

Why was he nervous?

He had no clue.

He had never felt nervous about seeing Bakura at school before, or talking to him, or anything like that. The closest thing to nerves that he had experienced around his (totally gay but in denial) friend (and maybe crush) was when they'd taken that, ah, interesting motorcycle ride together.

Malik felt himself flushing at the mere thought of his 'little problem' that had come up during the time, and he had only managed to get rid of it when Bakura appeared with his knife _through his fucking window._ Sure, it was impressive, but still terrifying and totally…totally off topic.

Moaning to himself hopelessly, Malik shook his head, forcing himself to continue on his way towards the twisted hunk of rattling parts and, hopefully still intact, steel that Bakura called his car. The only way to get rid of this curse was to take his medicine, and that meant letting Bakura drive him home.

It was just a ride there and back; it really should be no big deal. So, why was he so nervous about getting in the car with the other boy?

Come to think of it, this was the first time he and Bakura had spent anytime really alone together. Malik was just starting to draw the connections between what happened last time and this time when he caught sight of Bakura leaning against his hunk of junk, obviously waiting impatiently for Malik to show up.

Did his choker just get tighter, or was there some other reason it was suddenly so hard to breath?

It couldn't have been Bakura; he didn't look that different than usual. Well, he had his school jacket completely unbuttoned, his hair flying in the slight breeze, and a slightly annoyed look to go with it as he flicked it back. A pair of dark aviators were poking out above the snarls of white on his head, not quite able to hamper with his characteristic bat-like wings of hair.

By now, Malik was close enough to hear Bakura's sigh of annoyance over the thunder in his chest, and he coughed awkwardly to make his presence known. Glancing up, Bakura was surprised to see his wishes were answered –the kid was _finally_ here.

"Took you bloody long enough," he grumbled, but it was a little too mild to be his usual irritable style. In fact, now that the flip-flopping wiggly animals, or whatever they were, had died off, he found himself looking forward to this. Not being Malik's babysitter of course, but getting away from Ryou and Mariku's awkward attempts at 'friendship'.

Honestly, it was tiring to watch them keep getting there hopes up and then getting them dashed again. In the last quarter alone, Mariku had succeeded in causing another of Ryou's shorter, subdued panic attacks by simply walking up behind him to ask a question about lunch. Naturally, this set Mariku off on another rant about how Ryou needed to 'get over' their past issues, which proceeded to upset Ryou more, which proceeded to get Malik more curious, which proceeded to make Bakura step in and make them all shut up before Ryou started crying or something sissy like that.

Besides, if he didn't want to bring the skeletons out of the closet, that was fine by Bakura. He liked to keep his skeletons nice and dusty and all but forgotten whenever possibly.

"S-sorry," Malik stammered, and Bakura raised an eyebrow at the odd stammer. "So…so let's go than, if you're so impatient," the blond added, cursing himself internally for letting his conflict show.

Obviously, even that wasn't enough, because Bakura curled his lip, revealing a sharp canine that told of how disbelieving he was, but followed the expression with a short nod, rocking forward off the car and moving over to the driver's seat.

Malik watched him go, feeling his eyes dragged down to where the fabric stretched almost strategically over his –no. No, that was the gayest thought _ever_, and it had _not_ come out of his mind. No matter what this little…infatuation was, it wasn't going to get the best of him like that.

He wasn't some man-whore who stared at other guys asses!

Opening the door, he slid inside, and settled on folding his arms defiantly. Maybe that would do it? No, still no response from Bakura, except another strange side glance.

It was Malik who was feeling more and more conflicted as they began to drive, unable to make himself stop staring at his silent chauffer. He felt certain that Bakura knew he was being checked out, but hopefully he'd just chalk that up to Malik's inability to sit still today. Just in case though, it would be better to play on the safe side and start up a conversation. It would help pass the time, as well.

Malik knew this, and yet, every time he went to open his mouth to make a comment, on the weather, on Bakura's ridiculous hair, on Bakura's even more ridiculous sunglasses, on how fast they were driving, on _anything_, he couldn't seem to make anything come out. He kept getting distracted by how…well how _hot_ Bakura was looking.

Gah, it must be the ADHD bringing out these thoughts, somehow, even if the explanation didn't entirely make sense. You'd think it'd be harder to focus on anything for a long period of time right? Wrong. He couldn't take his eyes off of the Thief King's cold features.

"Is there a particular reason you can't stop staring at me?" Bakura asked calmly, and Malik nearly jumped out of the car in shock.

"Err…I'm not?" Even to Malik's ears it sounded pathetic.

"You clearly are," Bakura replied in a mildly amused tone, though the observation was merely a way of puffing his ego up even more. Malik stared dazedly at the slight curl of his lip, forming that prideful smirk, taking a solid thirty seconds before he could force his eyes away.

Mumbling unintelligibly to himself, Malik fought the horrendous, pink flush burning up his cheeks, internally cursing his unpredictable disorder. Again, the unnerving thought that this was the first opportunity he and Bakura had to talk alone popped into his head, making him sink farther into his seat. It was a testimony to how pathetic their friendship or…whatever it was they had, was.

_Okay, time to break this oppressive silence. Don't look at him, don't think to hard, just say something, anything…_

"How did you get so good with a knife?" He blurted, and then wondered uneasily if it was really an appropriate question. Wait, appropriate, Bakura? Those things hardly went together anyways. Ugh, his mind couldn't stay focused in the least today.

Tossing his companion a side glance, Bakura raised a stark white eyebrow questionably, before shrugging it off and deciding it wouldn't hurt to answer the kid's questions.

"That's what happens when you get enough practice," he explained simply, though there was a certain grimness to his tone that Malik didn't miss.

"I wonder how a high school student gets the opportunity to practice that much," Malik mused aloud; giving Bakura a pointed to look that said he was seeking an answer. A cold laughed slipped out of the other's icy façade, and the sound was so chilling, Malik was surprised that there was no condensation cloud forming from his breath.

"Oh, you know how it goes; you're in the foster system. Granted, you got lucky and nailed a good place to stay, but you must know a thing or two about less-than-perfect parents. Me and Ryou have enough of a family left that they can't put us into the system, but not enough of one to support is living in what some might the nicer part of town. I know how to handle myself in our neighbourhood, though," Bakura relayed casually, but there was a flinty look to his face that Malik didn't recognize as part of his normal expression, and an untold frustration to his actions as he switched lanes.

A small shiver found the younger Egyptian's body; he knew far too much about vengeful frustration. He probably should have stopped questioning Bakura so personally and switched to a safer topic like the weather, but he found his lips forming another question.

"Your parents aren't dead?" Bakura stiffened noticeably in his seat, turning to give him a harsh glare when they stopped for a red light.

Malik instinctually knew he was being sized up for backbone, and responded to Bakura's glare with posturing of his own. Only when the light flicked to green did Bakura look away, pressing down on the gas carefully so that he wouldn't stomp on it in reaction to his emotions. He wasn't the type for such displays.

"Ka-san is dead," he said in a bland voice, gaze still fixed on the road which blurred by before him, and Malik nodded slightly, not sure Bakura even saw him. He knew vaguely of the tragedy which took the two Touzoku females' lives, but if Mariku knew more than just that it had happened, he hadn't shared that information with his nii-san.

He had assumed Bakura was finished sharing, merely giving that information to stop Malik's prodding, but he continued after a moment, saying, "of course, Otou-san is still alive. Not around, but alive. When Ka-san and Amane-chan…died, he retreated into his work, and got away from our old lives. After dumping us in Japan and making sure we were fluent enough in the language though, he left us alone. We get our monthly cheques, but that's all that's left of his parenting."

It was a sad story, particularly because it was painfully clear that those cheques went towards the Touzoku twins' schooling, food, and emergency cell phones, not towards a big, luxurious house.

Malik wondered vaguely if it was worth asking about why Bakura chose to spend the money on an extended education, when most kids in his situation would have joined the workforce after they graduated from the public program, but decided it wasn't. From the sounds of things, the Touzoku's Otou-san was a business man, and he probably wouldn't approve sending money if it wasn't going towards an education.

But perhaps that was just Malik's own bitter experience with Otou-sans speaking.

"Oh," was what he finally settled on. It was hardly a sympathetic response, but it was the best he could come up with. Bakura seemed to agree that there was no good response to his little story, because he replied to Malik's 'comment' with a both harsh and bitter laugh.

"Not going to apologize? Say you're sorry for my troubles?" He asked nastily, and Malik recognized the familiar technique of trying to make him say something that would be unsatisfactory, just so that Bakura could take out his frustration on him.

It was something he'd seen Mariku employ many, many times since leaving Egypt.

"No," he replied, despite the way everything in him cried out with the desire to argue back. After all, he wasn't the one who abandoned Bakura and Ryou. He didn't kill their ka-san, or make her sick, or whatever it was that happened to her. He didn't deserve for Bakura to take it out on him.

But these things were just what would set the other boy off, so Malik was careful to remain neutral. Bakura's pale hands tightened brutally on the wheel, but could give no response, either.

Feeling a haze of unwanted memories that smelled of blood and decay wafting over his mind, Malik broke the short silence in a quiet voice, as he suddenly said, "Mariku killed our Otou-san when I was ten."

Despite his usual calm, and the almost eerie atmosphere in the car up until now, even Bakura was not impervious to such an announcement. His foot automatically found the break, pushing it to the floor before he could check his reaction. Sticking his hand out the window to the honking cars behind him, Bakura flipped them the bird impatiently, before starting forward again slowly.

"Why are you telling me?" Bakura asked in a suspiciously confused voice, trying hard to focus on the road, and not on Malik's blank expression. It was disturbingly like Mariku's during one of his emotional melt downs. Another good question to ask would be why _Mariku_ hadn't told him about this.

"I know you won't think any differently of nii-san," Malik said with a noncommittal shrug, "I was the one who asked him to do it, after all."

Bakura couldn't help wondering what Malik was feeling, telling him all of this. Obviously nothing good, but it was frustrating being unable to gauge whether it was fear, hurt, or anger that was driving that blank masquerade on his face. Regardless, he felt a flicker of self-importance that he was telling him at all, even if it was for a negative reason.

A larger, more ominous feeling was pressing on his chest though, and he could tell it would have a terrible affect on the kid if he betrayed whatever this trust was. He decided then and there that he would refrain from asking Ryou or Mariku about it, no matter how much he wanted to.

"Why'd you do that?" Bakura asked, knowing it was too casual for such a heavy conversation, but he was no Shakespeare.

"Because I…I wasn't strong enough to do it myself," Malik fumbled to say, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the subject. "And…" A sigh was the closest thing Bakura got to the end of that sentence, and he accepted that.

Malik pressed his temple to the cool glass of the window, allowing it to numb the spread of heat that came with his jumbled emotions on the subject. Bakura didn't press any farther, and Malik didn't offer any more information, either. They just rode like that, in a contemplative silence. Not quite awkward, but not quite compassionate either.

When Bakura finally stopped outside the Ishtar house, Malik forced himself to move reluctantly, wincing as he removed his head from the cold window. Bakura sat by impassively, as the blond dashed inside, gulping down his pill in a flash, before returning to the car.

All that for one pill the size of his thumbnail? Next time, he'd just leave a secret stash in his desk in case he forgot.

The car was moving again, and still not another word had been spoken. Malik could feel the medication taking affect, the world was slowing down, and he bit back a sigh of relief. All those images from his past stopped flashing in his minds eye so rapidly. They were slow enough for him to remember in full, and also remember how foolish those old fears were.

The threatening words his father used to whisper were long gone, and Malik could almost convince himself they were nothing but superstition. Even if they were true, the forty two judges and gods would probably reward him for removing the scum of a man from this life.

Anubis would be skipping with pleasure when he led Malik to the Hall of Two Truths in the House of Osiris.

When Thoth, the god of wisdom, read out all of the deeds of his life, his only criticism would be that Malik didn't act against Otou-san sooner. Malik wouldn't have to speak at all to defend his actions in his life.

Ma'at, the goddess of justice, would lighten her feather of truth in gratitude, so that when he stood upon the scales, all the judges and gods would see that he had not sinned when he begged for Otou-san's death. That it was not a sin, but a righteous choice when the two Ishtar brothers rolled his bloody body into the Nile that night, rather than giving him a proper burial.

It had saved them all from having to judge his Ka, for without any preservation of his body, the river creatures would eat his body right down to the bones, and then even they would turn to sand at the bottom, so his Ka would never be able to return to Ba and torture anyone else.

Even the Devouress of the Dead, Ammit, the one that Otou-san liked to threaten him with when he was a child, the one he awoke screaming in fear of, would not be able to consume such a black and twisted heart like Otou-san's.

At least, these were the stories Mariku told him on their journey over to Japan.

That was a time when Malik still woke up screaming from nightmares though, and as misdirected as Mariku was sometimes, he was still confident at most times that his nii-san was right.

These fantasies were what kept Malik sane sometimes, and while they played over and over in his head, he ignored the world around him.

Bakura noticed his stillness, and, while it disturbed him slightly, he had to admire the way he clamped down on his fly away emotions. Maybe it wasn't _healthy_, but it was still impressive, especially knowing how bad he was at controlling them at other times. Stopping at a red light, he drummed his fingers on the wheel introspectively, realizing that he had a perfect opportunity here and that he was wasting it.

"Want to get something to eat?" The words snapped Malik out of his daze, and he turned to look at his companion in confusion, though Bakura's gaze was calmly fixated on the road once again.

Where did that question come from? The drive had been so solemn so far…and he wanted to eat?

Sensing these questions, Bakura continued in a voice that masked any nerves he might be experiencing, "we didn't get to eat at school with the other two, and I know how much you love to whine about missing meals. Do you want to stop somewhere to eat before we go back?"

"Um…sure," Malik agreed awkwardly, feeling an unexpected flutter of nerves and excitement inside to accompany his words. Sure, it came with a slight insult, but all the same, this was either Bakura's way of sympathizing, or he was asking him on an impromptu date.

His first thought was, to his own unease, that he kind of wanted it to be a date. Obviously, his little crush was getting worse, and no doubt Bakura could sense it. Did that please the other boy, or was this his way of messing with him more? No, that seemed like too much, even for Bakura. Of course, that didn't mean that this was a date, but it still sent thrills through Malik's insides.

Pulling off to the side, Bakura guided them into the parking lot of a small café that probably sold sandwiches that had too many vegetables and barely any meat, but he could stomach it for a little extra time with Malik. Thank goodness it was the middle of the day in a school zone, and there were few customers, so finding a seat was quick, and a waitress was quick to take up their table.

Bakura smirked silently as she skipped over, knowing she was probably in it for a big gossip tip rather than monetary gain from the way she was sizing the up the two males that were willingly eating together in a girly cafe.

"Hey there, I'm Nosaka Miho, what can I get you?" She chirped, brushing her long purple ponytail back over her shoulder. Girls these days, always dying their hair absurd colors and trying to pass it off as 'natural'. Feh, that only worked in animes and bad yaoi fics.

Glancing at Malik across the table from him, who was still looking a little dazedly confused, Bakura grinned, realizing this did look a little bit like a bad yaoi fic.

"This is our first date," he told the girl bluntly, and she gasped, looking excitedly between the two of them.

"B-Bakura!" Malik stammered, flushing angrily as he glared at his 'friend', who merely chuckled, grabbing his hand across the table, and giving him the fakest goo-goo eyes he could muster. He'd seen Ryou use them enough times, after all.

"Oh, come on, I can't help wanting to tell everyone. It's just that I'm _so_ glad you're mine now, babe," he said, slathering on the sugary sweetness with a spatula, just to get a reaction from Malik. Well, it worked didn't it? He certainly wasn't trapped in his own little world anymore after that rude awakening.

"Oh good grief," Malik snarled with disgust, ripping his hand away from Bakura's pale grasp hastily. Rolling his dark eyes, Bakura turned to look back at their waitress, who was obviously a yaoi fangirl.

"He's shy, but he'll come around," he 'confided' in her, and she cooed her agreement, looking at Malik mischievously.

"Well, your boyfriend shouldn't be so shy, I am very jealous that you have someone as good looking as Bakura-san to brag about you, and fill your every whim," she told him in a heartfelt tone. Malik gave her a ludicrous look, but before he could utterly blow their cover, Bakura quickly dominated her attention again.

"Thank you for the compliment, Nosaka-san, I just want this first date to be an unforgettable one." Malik's glare was back on him, along with her attention, and he continued this line confidently. "I've heard this café has great food, what would you suggest?" He asked smoothly, without even blinking an eye to acknowledge Malik's displeasure.

"Oh, I would be so happy to help Bakura-san," she replied with a giggle, "our best reviews are for the _salade d'escargot _and the_ sandwich saumoné à paprika._" Bakura had no idea what either of those things were, but could guess at some of the words.

"Well then I guess I'll have the, um, salad, and my partner will have the sandwich," he told her with a false smile, and she tittered her approval before skipping back over to the kitchens.

It took less than ten seconds for Malik to round on him, watching her go distastefully, before turning his glare on Bakura once more.

"You know, I'm surprised your face did split open from that big _fake smile_ you were putting on for her. I wasn't even aware your mouth could stretch that far," he hissed spitefully, getting nothing but a chuckle in reply. "Furthermore, who gave you permission to call me out in public as your…your _boyfriend?_ And to think, she believed you were the type to fill my every whim," he continued to rant in disgust.

"You missed good looking and complimentary," Bakura informed him playfully, and Malik gave a groan of frustration.

"What is wrong with you? Even ordering my food, how…how…"

"Charming and date-like?" Bakura offered dryly.

"No! It's not charming; it's overly controlling, and a lie! Since when do you eat salads anyways?" The Egyptian huffed, extremely flustered by the situation. It was kind of cute, in a warped way.

Just the way Bakura liked his dates...not that he'd really been one before, but if he had to pick, this seemed pretty entertaining to him, and dates were supposed to be fun, right?

"I don't," Bakura agreed, making a face, "but I had to order something, and I don't exactly speak French. Beside, didn't you want some alone time on our _date_?" He questioned innocently, puckering his lips at Malik, which only furthered his annoyance over the whole 'date' concept. After a minute more of teasing, Malik caught sight of the girl returning with their two plates, and sunk down in his seat.

"Oh great, here she comes," he grumbled, and Bakura winked at him, just to rile him up all over again.

"Ah, here you go, I hope you enjoy!" She cooed, placing the food in front of the two, along with two large glasses of water, before hesitating slightly. Giving Bakura a concerned look, she pranced over to Malik's other side, and leaned down to whisper something in his ear.

Whatever she had said obviously alarmed him, much to Bakura's amusement; because he sat bolt upright with a startled noise, before quickly snapping out a vehement,_ "No!"_

"Miho-chan was just wondering, don't worry Bakura-san's boyfriend, I'm sure he will later if that is not the case now! Perhaps tonight, hmm~?" She questioned, dancing back out of reach with a suggestive giggle. "Well, please enjoy ~!" With this last, she was gone again, over to harass some other customers, most likely. Bakura cocked an eyebrow at his 'date' who, if possible, looked even more flustered than before.

"Please tell me you didn't just turn down a threesome," he stated, knowing just how it would affect Malik, and sure enough, the blond exploded.

"No, she did not offer me a threesome, you lewd freak, and I would have turned it down even if she did, I'm not a whore," he cried out against the snub. Grinning with predatory grace, Bakura congratulated himself internally. He had the kid right where he needed him.

"So, if not that, then what was it she said, my dear?" He asked, and Malik swallowed bitterly, seeing that he had no choice. After all, no doubt Bakura would parade his threesome theory around until he confessed.

Blushing miserably, he did so, relaying, "she asked if I was so 'put out' because you hadn't told me you loved me yet." Bakura snickered rudely, revealing a flash of canine before taking a swallow of what was likely tap water.

"Oh, my little muffin is unhappy because I haven't told him of me deep, desirous feelings for him? And she thought maybe I would while I was riding you tonight?" He asked in a far too sugary voice, and Malik shuddered.

"Don't say it like it's actually going to happen, you creep. That's what she was implying, but like I told her, she was _wrong,_" he said sternly, glaring at Bakura, who could barely choke back his laughter now. Sick of seeing him getting all the enjoyment, Malik upped the anti, as he added: "besides, even if I was going to degrade myself to jumping in the sack with you of all people tonight, I would be the one doing you, not the other way around."

Bakura's laughter was immediately sucked out of him, narrowing his red tinted eyes at his Egyptian, secretly loving every second of the exchange. It was this competitive spirit that was so attractive to him.

"Oh? You really think that I, with a vast amount of experience and superior muscle, couldn't have you screaming my name all night long?" Malik again felt a rush to his stomach –and perhaps a little lower, if he was honest, but honesty was overrated in his opinion.

"You're disgusting," Malik grumbled, snatching up his sandwich irritably.

"But you would let me make you my bitch?" Bakura asked teasingly, just as the kid bit into his food.

Immediately gagging on it, Malik began to cough, practically hacking up a lung in shock at those brazen words. Lunging for his glass, he chugged about three quarters of it before he could speak again.

"You…you…who said anything about making anyone a bitch? Who said anything about actually _doing_ _anything_ together?" He demanded, setting down his glass gingerly. Bakura, once he'd stopped laughing, looked up at the kid with great amusement on his face, possibly in the best mood Malik had ever seen him in.

"I was just having a little fun, I know you're not going to let me close enough to touch for at least a month now," Bakura said derisively with a snort of disbelief, as he looked down at his rather unappealing plate.

"Definitely not if you've been eating snails. Those things smell," Malik commented, wrinkling his noise delicately. Bakura didn't look very happy about it either.

"Well, here's to never finding out which of us would be on top…yet," Bakura said with a salute in the form a wink, before stabbing up some lettuce and snails and shoving them into his mouth.

"Eww, I can't believe you're actually eating _snails_," Malik said, nearly gagging in disgust.

"Oh, shut up," Bakura retorted, swallowing, "you sound like a girl. Just eat your sandwich, bitch."

"I'm not your" –

"I know, I know, you're not a bitch, or a fruit, you're just a very effeminate, whiny kid who is on a fake date with his sexy upperclassman who he secretly wants to bang tonight, despite being a virgin," Bakura corrected his comment snidely, rolling his eyes again, before taking another bite.

Malik was quiet a moment, and then said, "I'm not a virgin."

"And I should believe this…why?" Bakura asked, giving him a challenging look that Malik struggled not to rise to.

"Because, _darling,_ if you're my fake date, you should be trying to please me, so why don't you just accept that I'm telling the truth for once?" Malik snarled back, and Bakura chuckled, having successfully gotten Malik somewhat into accepting that this was a sort of very messed up date, which had been his goal all along. That and getting the kid all hot and bothered was just too much fun (though he was sure Malik would deny the hot part until his dying day).

"But baby, I was hoping to be your one and only, now I can't ever do you," Bakura whined back, trying to act girly, and got a half laugh, half snort out of his 'date'.

"You're ridiculous, you know that? Admit it, you would do me in a second if I let you," Malik responded in exasperation.

"Probably," Bakura admitted, once again perfectly timed with Malik taking a huge bite of his sandwich.

This time, however, he only succeeded in getting a strange look from the boy, before he began coughing again, swallowing hard.

"Oh, Ra, what did you order, Bakura? My tongue is burning," Malik complained between coughs, drinking what was left of his water –which, due to Bakura's behaviour earlier, wasn't much.

"Um, she said something about paprika," Bakura replied, watching with amusement as Malik tried desperately to cool what was evidently an overdose of paprika.

"Don't…don't just laugh! Do something!" Malik demanded, face flushing.

"Like what? Put the fire out with my tongue? I think that would just get you more hot, not cool you down," Bakura continued teasing, obviously not taking this as seriously as his suffering Egyptian was. Finally, after letting him beg a little more, Bakura pressed his own mostly untouched glass into Malik's tanned hand, so that he could chug it down desperately.

"Oh, Ra…that's much better," Malik sighed, slowly putting the glass back down, and looking at the remains of his sandwich. Thank to that extra large bite, there wasn't much left, anyways. "Well, I don't think I'll be eating anymore of that…thanks, I guess," he said grudgingly to his companion, who'd spent far too much time laughing and not enough time helping to be deserving of any real gratitude.

Just as he handed the glass back, Bakura's long, pale fingers brushed his, and Malik's face suddenly contorted with alarm, dropping the glass entirely. Bakura fumbled, and managed to snatch it up, placing it down safely before glaring at Malik.

"What's your problem, butter fingers?" He snapped, and Malik just gave him a comically embarrassed look.

"Well…you drank from that…and then I drank from it…so…so I basically _did_ kiss you," he moaned like that was the worst thing he could possibly imagine. Bakura gave him a disbelieving look, and then rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation.

"Oh please, Malik, we just had a whole conversation about who would be more dominant in bed, and you're freaking out because of a supposed indirect kiss?" Malik flushed brighter, and looked away stubbornly.

"I could give you a real one, if that makes you feel better," Bakura offered, tone quickly becoming sultry and getting Malik's attention once more.

"No thanks," he said in weak imitation of his usual heated protest. Really, all his fuss was because alarm bells were going off in his head over the fact that he didn't really mind the indirect kiss, and the idea of a real kiss was…well…almost appealing, actually.

_Hormones_, he told himself firmly, _I obviously haven't been satisfying them lately, and, being a teenaged boy, they're just targeting the most willing participant._

Right…that didn't even make a whole lot of sense inside his head.

"Well, if you insist on being anorexic to keep that fine figure of yours, than we should head back," Bakura commented, nonplussed about the idea of returning to Mariku and Ryou. Maybe it was terrible of him, but whatever, he was enjoying this time with Malik. The kid was just so…entertaining, and unpredictable.

"What? I am not anorexic! I'm naturally skinny!" Malik proclaimed with pride, ignoring Bakura's small compliment. He was starting to realize half of his 'insults' were compliments in some way or another.

"Upchucking isn't the way to go either," Bakura teased, and Malik stuck his tongue out at him immaturely, before smiling slightly.

"Fine, be like that, at least get the waitresses attention so we can get out of here, its way too hot," he said, tugging uncomfortably at his collar. Bakura raised an eyebrow; he actually found it quite cool in the café, but it wasn't that significant.

"Don't bother," was all he said, standing up and reaching into his bag. From it, he produced a small black tray, a scrap of white paper, a business card that was emblazoned TK in red, and a few dimes.

"Is that your idea of a tip?" Malik questioned, watching his friend at work, only to be shot a secretive grin.

"No, but it is Thief King Touzoku-sama's greatest gift. No one will suspect this layout until we're long gone," he said proudly, and Malik gasped slightly at his audacity.

"Bakura, you wouldn't really" –

"Cheat a perfectly popular café out of a couple dollars from two poor high school students? Yes, I certainly would," Bakura said, matter-of-factly. Well, when he put it like that…

"Are you sure they won't notice?" Malik whispered, looking around suspiciously. Bakura reached out to cuff the back of his head, earning a whine from his 'date' and a glare to go with it.

"They will if you keep acting so suspicious. Trust me, appearance is everything to a good thief," he assured the Egyptian, tossing him a wink before slinging his bag over his shoulder and marching right out the door with a big smile on his face for all the world to see.

And, since he had no money of his own with him, Malik followed, feeling a new appreciation as he saw the Thief King himself at work.

**A/N: Abrupt cut-offs for the win! Sorry about that, but it was starting to get pretty long, and I want you all to have something to read next week when this date starts to get really interesting ;) Especially because this chapter...kind of sucked...in fact, I really hated it, the whole thing just seemed extremely awkward to me. Hopefully it wasn't that bad for all of you...Anyways, I'm sure you all haven't forgotten about the fish I mentioned before, and it hasn't made it's great debut yet, so get ready, cause it's coming to next Tuesday ~! ;) (Also, my French is nonexistant, and I just used what I remembered from World Religion class and what google could tell me for this chapter...nobody kill me if I got something wrong!)**


	26. Fishsickness

**A/N: Okay, so first off, big apology! I went to the Land of Death for over a week, and there's no internet there (thus, the land of death) and I finally came back and, as I told many of you my review replies, found that my internet decided to flop here as well. So, the repair man came and fixed the cable, and fixed the phone and blah, blah, blah, and then he left and I went to check my email…and the internet was STILL gone! And then he came back again today and was super nice and fixed it up, so I'm actually getting it up semi-on time! Anyways…please enjoy this new chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

Sliding into the car, Malik couldn't help but take one last nervous glance inside the café, and nearly jumped out the window when he saw a familiar purple ponytail.

"Oh, relax, kid, she can't see you. The only way should would is if you keep acting so frantic; I'm shocked you don't have the whole café's eyes on you already," Bakura chastised, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and yanking him to face to front of the car again.

Malik gave a whine of displeasure, rubbing a hand across his chest gingerly.

"Don't be a sissy; Ryou gives me enough grief for this little trick. Or has he gotten that stick too far up your ass already?" Bakura mocked mercilessly with a savage grin, as he put the car in gear and pulled out, nearly hitting a pedestrian.

She swore at him, as her groceries spewed all over the road, and Bakura returned the favour, waving with his middle finger and tapping his horn for affect as he pulled out into the street.

"Geez, you're one to talk. For one, I don't like things up my ass the way you evidently do, and for another, if you're _trying_ to make it obvious we're running away from the scene of the crime, why don't you hit a few more people on the way?" Malik snapped, still rubbing his chest in a distracting way.

Not because he was trying to seduce Bakura or anything, like they hadn't had enough sexual implications yet today, but because it _hurt. _Was Bakura purposefully being violent, or was that ache coming from inside his chest? Ra, his body couldn't take anymore stress today.

"Up _my_ ass? I think we've had this conversation already; I don't take anything up the ass. Besides, I haven't had sex in forever anyways, you bastard," Bakura grumbled with a stormy frown, as he slammed on the gas in order to squeeze through the yellow light and onto the highway ramp.

Malik let out a half strangled cough, tugging the seatbelt away from his body. Was it locked? No, it just felt tighter than normal for some reason.

"B-bastard? How the…how the hell is you not getting laid _my _fault?" Malik sputtered, and Bakura's frown deepened as he listened to the boy cough.

"You bloody well know why," Bakura started, only for Malik to cut him off with, "Ra, is it hot in here, or is it just me?"

Bakura fell silent for a moment, actually wondering if his ADHD had suddenly returned. A glance to his right told him this wasn't the case, as Malik's face was twisted in an expression of unease.

"Normally, I'd take the opportunity to drop a line, but you actually do look hot, and not in the attractive way," Bakura commented distastefully, slowing the car down to 100.

Malik let out a wheezing breath which might have been discontent or agreement, Bakura wasn't sure, but it wasn't normal. His face was shiny with sweat and flushed a bright pink.

"Are you getting car sick? Cause this car has enough stains as is," Bakura jibed lightly to hide his concern over Malik's rapidly deteriorating condition.

"You…you're sick, you know that?"

"No…I think you're the sick one," Bakura said slowly, glancing again at his face.

"Maybe you're…oh Ra, pull over," Malix blurted suddenly.

"What, right" –he had barely started to argue when Malik let out a startling moan that wasn't so much erotic as scary, and Bakura wasn't an easy scare.

The speedometer dropped to 60 in a matter of seconds, and seconds after that they were on the side of the road. Malik scrambled with his seatbelt and managed to tumble out before his lunch made a rude reappearance.

Bakura winced at the violent sound of retching, and felt his own stomach gurgle in revulsion. Figuring that this wasn't the friendliest response to his friend's apparent agony, he unclipped his own seatbelt, and forced himself to slide over to Malik's side of the car.

Leaning part way out, he nearly ducked back inside when he saw the puddle of mush lying by the side of the road. With a sigh, he forced himself to step out, gingerly avoiding the mess, because otherwise he'd have to live with Malik believing he really didn't care for him at all, or, even worse, believing he was too much of a girl to deal with some puking.

By the time he'd gotten a good look at Malik, he was already glad he'd decided to get out of the car. For one thing, Malik didn't look like he was going to be getting back in the car any time soon, judging by the way he was hunched over, and for another, the kid was a total mess.

Not his clothing, the kid had enough presence of mind to not make a mess of himself, thank goodness, but the 'carsickness' hadn't abated once the car stopped moving. Sure, Bakura had been driving fast, but not so fast as to bring on this reaction when Malik had had no reaction this morning or earlier this afternoon.

The kid let out another pitiful moan, and Bakura hesitantly reached out to touch his shoulder, not sure what to do, and then pulled back with alarm. Malik's skin was hot even through his shirt, and he was sweating way too much for a simple anxiety attack –Bakura would know, seeing as Ryou had them on a regular basis.

On top of that, he seemed to be having trouble breathing, or settling his stomach.

"Sorry…" Malik mumbled, clenching his teeth against the stomach pain.

"Get back in the car; I'm taking you to the hospital," Bakura said shortly. Those skeletons just would not stay in the closet today; memories from a time far too similar to this were pushing their way into his mind no matter how he tried to keep them out.

_This must be how Ryou feels all the time_, Bakura grumbled internally, fighting the senseless fear back.

"N-no, just take me…home. It was probably the…sandwich. I'm allergic to fish," Malik explained haltingly, making a face as though he was allergic to the very word fish.

Bakura struggled to recall what the waitress had said in French when he was ordering, but knew it was hopeless to try and figure out since he hadn't understood it when she'd first said it anyways.

Still…that did make it his responsibility. Again.

God, he needed to stop getting in trouble because of this kid.

"Fish?" He couldn't help asking sceptically. Of all the random ass things he could have been allergic to, why did it have to be fish?

"I hope that doesn't offend…koneko," Malik panted, shooting Bakura a half-hearted smirk.

"Fuck you, I'm not a kitty. I should leave you here and give you some time to work on your manners," Bakura shot back, but felt his indignation crumble, as Malik gave another pitiful whimper.

Time to get out of here before he started crying or something; if that happened, Bakura would really be at a loss. Circling around behind the blond, he hooked one arm under his knees and the other behind his back.

"That's tora to you, kid," he mumbled, lifting his body up, bridal style.

"I-I can…walk," Malik tried to splutter, cut off half way by a wheezing cough.

"Stop struggling; it's hard enough lifting someone taller than me, and I'll drop you on your head if keep moving," Bakura ordered in frustration, though it succeeded in getting Malik to settle down.

Manoeuvring him into the car wasn't as difficult thanks to the way both boys had left the door hanging open, and Malik could do nothing but wince when Bakura dropped him into the bucket seat.

"Thanks," he said quietly, and Bakura jerked his head before slamming the door shut to hide his own tell-tale expression of worry. The kid really _was_ hot in a very un-sexy way.

Skirting around the front of the car, he sidled around the other side, pressing himself as close as possible to the door. He had no desire to become 18-wheeler road kill. Careful as he was, he still breathed a silent sigh of relief when he got the door shut.

Not because he feared for his own life; any regular car that were to hit him would be smashed, regardless of the laws of physics, but the door of this junk bucket…well, insurance was hard enough to afford as it was, and yet another set of stupid laws decreed that it was his fault if another car clipped his door on the way by.

"That was probably dangerous," Malik said in a voice that was little more than a whisper, as he gingerly held his seatbelt away from his body.

"Shut up or I'm taking you straight to the hospital," he ordered, and Malik did shut up, but Bakura got the feeling it was more because talking was too difficult than because he feared going to the hospital.

The car was started up again, and Bakura forced himself to drive the speed limit, though Malik could easily see that the situation was grinding down his patience by the way his hands looked ready to rip off the steering wheel.

He couldn't know it, but inside, Bakura's head was a whirlwind of half baked thoughts mixed with unpleasant memories and carefully concealed fears. Every second they spent in this car he had to listen to the quite wheeze in Malik's breath, and fight the urge to turn around and drive straight to the hospital.

Amane's breath had gotten weak like that right before she died, too.

He shuddered, trying to refocus on the road, but it was difficult when the memories were coming on thick. Unlike Ryou, he was fairly successful at rationalizing away any guilt about the accident.

Yes, he had opened the door for their 'visitor' that afternoon, and yes, he wished he had put up more of a fight, but he was only nine, what was he supposed to be, superman? It wasn't a matched fight, and he knew that now as well as he had then.

Still…the situations may not be similar, but he cared for Malik on more than one level, and it went against his instincts to let him suffer. The feeling that he was making the wrong choice by driving back to the Ishtar house wouldn't leave him alone.

His only slight reassurance was that this time he wouldn't have to live with any guilt, because Mariku would probably kill him if anything happened to his nii-san on Bakura's watch.

"Malik," he asked in a grim tone, sizing up a yellow light that dared to defy him. Malik winced and shut his eyes, possibly because he didn't want to see the truck which honked loudly and nearly turned them into a car-and-human sandwich.

"Yes?" He asked meekly, and Bakura shot him a piercing glare that stole what little breath was left in his aching chest.

"Tell me you are absolutely certain you have medication at your house which will fix this," a vague wave of his ghostly white hand indicated Malik's severe symptoms.

Malik answered quickly, again, possibly because he felt they had a better chance of surviving Bakura's reckless driving if both of the boy's hands were on the wheel.

"Yes, as long as I don't start choking or swelling up, Benadryl works to knock me out and alleviate the symptoms," he assured his 'date' who nodded again, still not looking convinced, but a little less like he was on the verge of calling 9-1-1.

Parking hastily outside the Ishtar house, Bakura was out of the car and by Malik's side, ready to carry him into the house to get the medication. How the tables did turn from their last trip here for meds…Malik's body clearly didn't appreciate itself very much.

"Don't," Malik snapped, trying for some of his usually spunk. Bakura stepped back and let him cough, wheeze, and stumbled his way to the front porch like a drunk man, but he couldn't help hovering closely behind.

Needless to say, Malik's fevered mind wasn't entirely focused, but he was somewhat disturbed by the sudden change in behaviour.

Bakura normally seemed to be so aloof and cold despite his moments of flirtation, but this appeared to be genuine concern that didn't hint at personal gain at all. It was confusing, and a little creepy.

He couldn't decide if it was more like being followed by death's angel, just waiting for him to drop dead, or an overbearing ka-san, the likes of which Malik had certainly never had.

His ka-san died when he was born, and his foster ka-san was something of a sympathetic collector of orphaned Egyptians.

Not purposefully, but the government provided foster parents with a little extra cash for raising children, and they tried to match ethnic backgrounds together –that was how he ended up with an additional Egyptian 'nii-san' and 'nee-san', though they had moved out of the house when they got old enough.

These thoughts distracted him from the growing pain in his cramped and stewing stomach until he made it to the door of his room, but that was where he finally broke down and made a dash for the bathroom.

He was vaguely aware of Bakura standing somewhere behind him again, seeming just as awkward and unsure of what to do as he had earlier, and found the slightly amusing thought relaxing in a strange way.

At least he wasn't the only uncomfortable one; he couldn't imagine Bakura had much practice being compassionate –it was probably painful for him to refrain from any sarcastic comments over such a long stretch of time.

His body continued to purge itself long after it got all the contaminants out of his system, but hey, a person could only throw up so much bile.

When the head spinning puking spells finally stopped, Malik heaved himself to his feet, grudgingly accepting the cool glass of water that Bakura offered him. Ra, he felt pathetic.

After washing away the burning aftertaste of stomach bile, Malik made to walk towards the bathroom cabinet, only to end up back on the floor. Wow…the tiles didn't normally spin that way.

Maybe his fever was worse than he initially suspected.

Bakura was immediately crouched beside him, supporting his upper body by hooking him into a double arm bar from behind.

"I told you upchucking wasn't the way to go; you're a total mess, kid," Bakura said quietly in his ear, and Malik winced, as he tried to make his mouth form an argument.

"Your fault," he managed in a hoarse voice, before pressing a hand to his chest, which seemed intent on being too tight for him to breathe, let alone speak.

"Fine, I'll pick on you when you're not delirious," Bakura huffed in fake impatience, dragging himself to his feet with his crush in-tow.

Malik felt like a sack of potatoes –a really miserable, really breathless sack of potatoes that could hear its pride being shredded somewhere in the distance.

To his surprise, Bakura seemed to sense this, because he backed off from his arm bar hold as soon as he was sure Malik was steady enough on his feet.

"Now, get your ass in bed and I'll bring you the Benadryl," he ordered, though he averted his gaze to hide the insecurity on his face. He was good at teasing, flirting, stealing, and damn good in bed –he was not, however, at all good at this caring thing.

It was weird, and made him feel like a pansy.

"Okay," Malik replied with a cough, and proceeded to shuffle off towards his room which was only just down the hall.

It was a good thing Bakura gave him a head start, because his dizzy, faltering steps got him to his bed just barely before Bakura was there with more two pills and another glass of water in hand.

He handed them over silently, and Malik choked them down, relieved to find that his throat hadn't swollen shut, and that the tightness was purely in his chest.

While watching him gulp the water, Bakura suddenly said, "You should have told me you were allergic to fish. If I had known, I wouldn't have to be standing here feeling like Ryou."

Malik choked and nearly spat out the water, making Bakura jump slightly, before realizing the kid was actually laughing. Someone owed him big time for letting his nerves get fried like this.

"You…like Ryou? Yah right," Malik replied as easily as he could, "Ryou would have already made me hot soup and bought me a TV so I could watch Soaps while I recovered."

Bakura chuckled a little at the image, relieved Malik clearly didn't think that he had overreacted. All a thief had was his reputation, after all.

"Alright well, that shit should knock you out, so I don't think I'm taking you back to school," Bakura mused aloud.

"Bad enough puking in front of just you anyways," Malik agreed hoarsely, drawing his knees up to his chin with a shiver.

Frowning at this, Bakura added, "I may not be a nurse, but I'm pretty sure people with fevers are supposed to lie down and rest."

Malik rolled his eyes, but didn't bother arguing, his whole body felt exhausted and painful, not to mention it was much harder to breathe when he was sitting. Even when he was lying down flat, he could hear the air rattling in his lungs, and wheezing as it escaped between his teeth, despite his attempts to clench them against the chattering.

"Y-you're not going to t-tell Ryou or Mariku are you?" Malik asked, looking over at Bakura with a shameful look on his face, as he tried to keep from shivering too noticeably. He failed miserably, but at least he tried.

"They're probably going to notice when neither of us show up back at school, though Mariku at least will probably think the sexual tension got to you and we're just shacking up," Bakura replied, smirking lightly at Malik, who merely raised an eyebrow.

"Y-you're not" –

"No, I'm not," Bakura said, cutting him off definitively. The glare on his face said the question was closed, and Malik decided nothing more needed to be said.

It seemed that even intense fever and nausea couldn't stop the pleasant thrill from his insides when Bakura made it clear that he wasn't planning on leaving his side any time soon.

Of course, as soon as Malik thought it, Bakura gave him one last cursory glance, and then walked right out of the room.

What the…? Was the fever making him hallucinate? No, that'd never happened before, and this reaction was no worse than any other. What was Bakura doing, actually making him soup? Hah, yah right, like this amount of kindness wasn't stretching him to his limits anyways.

Though…it was a little sweet that he tried to show he cared, even a little bit. The thought would have brought a flush to Malik's cheeks if it hadn't been so damn cold.

Ra, his body felt like an icicle!

If he wasn't hallucinating before, Malik became convinced that he was when Bakura came in with his face hidden but what appeared to be a pink fluffy blanket.

When his poof of white hair appeared above the mess of blankets again, he shot a defiant glare at Malik's confounded expression.

"You said your nee-san moved out, so unless this is Mariku's, I don't think anyone's going to mind if you borrow it," he grunted in way of explanation, and though it wasn't the most poetic, it was, once again, almost sweet in a brusque way.

"It's pink," Malik argued pathetically, and Bakura rolled his eyes, as he dropped the blanket on the floor with a derisive snort.

"The medicine's going to put you in la-la land soon enough, so quit your bitching. Besides, you suck at pretending to be tough, you're freezing your ass off thanks to that fever of yours," Bakura pointed out with ease, as he shrugged off his school jacket and undid the buttons of his shirt with one hand.

Oh Ra, either he really was hallucinating, or Bakura had decided now would be a good time to do a striptease and show off his well worked torso.

He wasn't built like Mariku, or lean like Malik, but somewhere in between –a really sexy middle ground. Turning his head away quickly, Malik cursed the awkward situation, and a second later, he felt the warmth of the blanket settling around his body.

Closing his eyes, it solved the problem of not seeing a half naked Bakura, and also of revelling in the warmth it provided –right up until Bakura decided to crawl up onto the bed as well and wrap his arms around the Egyptian's slender waist.

"K-Kura, what are you doing?" Malik demanded, startling as he struggled slightly to get out of the embrace, though Bakura's arms merely tightened, pulling Malik's back into closer alignment with his bare chest.

His chin settled on the other boy's shoulder, and he mumbled, "I might as well keep you warm until you pass out."

The words seemed to rumble across his chest into Malik's back, and the sensation was far from unpleasant. He couldn't help relax in that warm, secure embrace. Dipping his head, he pressed his cheek to Bakura's, enjoying the soft give of his warm skin.

"Why are you being so nice?" He asked quietly, and he felt Bakura shrug behind him.

"I told you I was hot for you," was the simple reply.

"I…I didn't think you were serious," Malik admitted, still not sure he believed that Bakura really understood what it meant to say he actually, romantically cared for someone.

Another shrug was his only response, and a tightening of Bakura's arms around his midriff. Not like Malik was going anywhere, but he didn't mind. It felt…right, somehow.

Ra was going to smite him down for being so cheesy.

The seconds ticked past, and Malik appreciated Bakura's proffered warmth more and more, as his shivers subsided.

When he was just starting to feel the slightest bit sleepy, Bakura's voice suddenly whispered in his ear, "Amane."

Malik could hear sadness etched into the very word when Bakura said it, and felt curiosity stir within him. The good thing about Bakura was that he wouldn't answer if he didn't feel like it, so Malik didn't have to worry about crossing lines.

Not to mention Bakura wasn't the most sensitive person either. Perhaps, Malik was just making up excuses, but he had to ask anyways.

"Who's that?" He whispered back.

"My nee-san. She was just little, so she was my responsibility and…and she died when I was supposed to be taking care of her and ka-san," Bakura responded quietly, almost pulling off a factual tone, except for his small pause when he talked about her death.

He and Ryou did that a lot whenever it was brought up, Malik had noticed, almost as though they were ashamed of the details. It wouldn't surprise him coming from Ryou, but Bakura…?

"It probably wasn't your fault," Malik pointed out.

The Touzoku twins were what, seventeen now? And this happened before Mariku met them? They couldn't have been over eleven at the time; he found it hard to believe it was any fault of theirs.

"You're right," Bakura responded with a heavy sigh that ruffled the blonde's hair, "it probably wasn't, but there's always the chance that it was."

Malik tensed at the words, suddenly feeling the pieces fall into place in his foggy mind. Shutting his eyes briefly, he forced his body to roll over so that he could see Bakura's face.

Bakura raised himself up on his arms so that Malik could lay back comfortably, looking down at him uncertainly, as though to ask where he was going with this.

Malik certainly wasn't unaware of their proximity and Bakura's half-nakedness, but he tried to ignore that fact for the moment.

Licking his dry lips, he tried to sound stronger than he felt, as he said, "I'm not dying, 'Kura."

"You better not be," Bakura responded instantly with a harsh glare, though his gruff tone gave him away, "I would never forgive you if you did."

Malik started to laugh lightly, but felt it slipping away as he locked eyes with Bakura's dark gaze. Sometimes it was cold, sometimes mysterious, and sometimes…almost on the brink of being warm if you squinted enough and tried really hard to see past his neutral expression.

Like right now.

The gaze flickered to the Egyptian's pinkish-brown lips, which looked inappropriately delicious at the moment, and then returned to his surprisingly clear expression. Leaning forward slightly, Bakura gently pushed the so-far mostly friendly border they had going on, and Malik did nothing to stop him.

He couldn't even catch a cliché, romantic breath due to his overreacting immune system. The urge to kiss him increased, and, after deciding the kid wasn't delirious from the fever or medication, Bakura slowly closed the distance, feeling a rush of relief upon connecting with those soft, slightly parted lips.

Exotic and luscious, just like his imagination had pictured them, although a little unnaturally warm from the fever.

Malik was sure his heart would pound it's way of his ribs, as Bakura pressed there lips together in a gentle fashion that he would never have expected from the harsh Thief King.

The moment was drawn out for several delicious seconds, before Bakura finally pulled away inch by inch, torturing Malik's mind along with the rest of his suffering body. Another heavy sigh came from above him, and Malik opened his eyes a crack, seeing Bakura's conflicted gaze retreating faster now.

"I probably shouldn't have done that," Bakura mumbled, though he couldn't bring himself to regret it just yet. Maybe he would later, but he was already doubting that thought, as Malik smiled just a little bit, and buried his face into his 'date's' chest with a muffled laugh.

"No, you probably shouldn't have taken advantage of a doped up sick person," he agreed, not sounding all that bothered by it either, despite his words. Bakura chuckled just a little as well, struck by the strangeness of the situation.

First, he was jealous this morning, then he was actually concerned for the kid's health, and just now he'd kissed him even knowing how inappropriate it was, given the situation.

In spite of all that, Malik was peaking up at him with one violet iris; face still buried shyly in his very warm, very bare chest, not even putting up a fight against Bakura's forwardness.

Very strange, indeed.

Settling back down on the bed, Bakura pulled a grateful Malik back to their comfortable, original position so that they were back to front. Considering what he had just accepted from the Thief King, Malik didn't feel so guilty about enjoying the security of Bakura's embrace this time around.

It was making it easy for the medicine to take hold of his battered body, and coax his sleepy brain into a fog that would inevitably lead to sleep.

Bakura continued to hold him the whole time, tracing patterns on the walls, as he listened to Malik's wheezing breathing becoming slowly even and clear. Bakura wished he could just fall asleep, but his mind was strangely clear after their conversation and that kiss.

He wasn't sure what had struck him, but he just _had_ to kiss him in that moment.

Whether it was their conversation about Amane, their sudden closeness, the look on his face, or a combination of all the bizarre events that had taken place today, Bakura wasn't sure, but he knew his willpower to resist his frustrating crush was getting thinner every day.

The kiss wasn't likely to mean anything after today; Malik was still too insecure about himself, and obviously insecure about Bakura's feelings as well.

Bakura knew this, and yet, still felt no regret.

He still had Malik tucked in his arms for now, and he still had the memory of their lips pressed together, not to mention the pride of being all but certain he was the first male to have kissed the kid.

He chose to dwell on that, rather than their ominous earlier conversations, or the miserable truth that this parade was far from finished. Pride was a far more enjoyable emotion, and gloating was one thing no one had ever accused him of being bad at.

Who was he to argue if it happened to come with a kiss?

**A/N: So…did anyone guess the fish twist? Or the fact that their car trouble would be Malik throwing up? Nobody said so if they did! Oh, and also, for anyone who may be wondering, "koneko" means kitty and "tora" means tiger, so basically Malik was referencing the fact that kitties love fish, and obviously he doesn't. So...any questions or comments are welcome as always! :)**


	27. Koneko

**A/N: Alright, so this chapter is super short, but I have a good reason! And no, that reason is not lack of time or laziness –believe it or not, I planned it this way! It's short because next chapter is super long, super intense, full of angst, AND full of romance, and that was extremely tough for me to write. Personally, I'm not an angst-y writer, but obviously there was some explanation necessary considering all the hints about certain characters' pasts that I've been dropping ;) So, without further ado, here's a little fluff to enjoy before things start to get messy again next chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

More time must have past than Bakura had noticed while he thought about that kiss he and Malik had shared, because the first intruding sound since Malik fell asleep was the sound of the door opening.

A familiar voice laced with concern called out, "Bakura? Malik? Are either of you here?" School must have ended and, when Ryou and Mariku realized the two weren't going to return after their lunch break escapade, come here to find out what had happened.

True to his nature, Mariku was quick to follow Ryou's genuine concern with, "you worry too much. The brat probably just broke down and begged Bakura to fuck him senseless. Or Bakura just decided to do that on his own, depending on which one worked up the balls first."

Bakura frowned to himself as he worked his arms free from Malik's thankfully cooler body. Worked up the balls? It was hardly lack of courage that was stopping him from screwing the other boy into the bed; it was more a matter of not having the cops on his ass for rape.

Besides, he had experienced enough of the consequences of taking advantage of someone to know that nothing was worth that.

"Mariku! Don't say that about your own nii-san," Ryou admonished, and Bakura was certain both he and Mariku were rolling their eyes at his goodie-two-shoes nature.

Bakura silently wished Mariku good luck when he 'worked up the balls' to try screwing Ryou; he didn't envy his friend that mission.

"Alright, but if I find out they've been screwing around, you owe me more than a kiss," Mariku grumbled, followed by the sound of creaking stairs as he stormed up, intent on proving his point.

Bakura made his way over to the door quickly, opening it at the same moment that Mariku stepped into the hallway. By the time he got the door shut again, Ryou had appeared behind Mariku, jaw dropping in disbelief.

Realizing that he was still shirtless and probably a little dishevelled looking, he was quick to cut off Mariku's growing smirk.

"We didn't do anything, so you can drop that right now," he snapped. Mariku shrugged as though to say 'sure you didn't', but Ryou looked relieved.

Such a trusting kid…no wonder he'd been screwed over so many times.

"I'm glad," Ryou admitted, "I was getting worried when you guys never came back to school. You should have texted me." Bakura did feel a twinge of guilt over that since he was the one who insisted that they both carry cell phones in case something happened.

Then again, Ryou was the one who was usually checking up on him, so it was only natural that Bakura forgot the one time he was supposed to.

Mariku also seemed to have rationalized away his forgetfulness, but for an entirely different reason.

"Well," he drawled, still smirking, "the thing is, Ryou, it's kind of hard to text when your hands are holding a hot, throbbing" –

"Oh, for fuck sake, Mariku, if you ever want to get laid, stop filling his head with so much shit. If you don't believe me, go look in the bathroom yourself," Bakura snarled, as Ryou looked ready to faint at Mariku's words.

Giving a sound of disapproval, Mariku narrowed his dark, mauve eyes, but stomped off to the bathroom. Whistling slightly in appreciation, he backed away from the mess around and in the toilet.

"Made a mess, did you, Bakura?" He asked casually, though there was a flintier look in his eyes, as he looked back at his friend.

"No, Malik made a mess, and it wasn't anything I did to him, so stop giving me that look," Bakura replied stubbornly. Ryou glanced between them frantically, not sure if he should step in, but Mariku reluctantly relaxed a bit.

"What'd you do, feed him fish?" Mariku asked, sounding more curious this time, glancing between the bathroom and Bakura's neutral expression.

"Not on purpose, but we stopped for lunch on the way to school, and ended up back here with him puking his insides out," Bakura replied distastefully.

"Oh, poor Malik," Ryou murmured.

"And you were getting naked in his room…why?" Mariku continued to question, ignoring Ryou's concern.

"He had a fever, and he was bitching about freezing his ass off. Ever heard about conserving body heat, dumbass?" Bakura scoffed, though that wasn't entirely true. The body heat, yes, but Malik had been trying hard not to complain.

Still, it didn't exactly make Bakura look good if he confessed to stripping down and jumping in bed with him for the hell of it.

Mariku was giving Ryou a speculative look, head cocked to the side, thoughts practically tangible. Maybe it hadn't been the wisest thing to explain the idea of conserving body heat to him.

"U-um…I'm going to go…clean up, that is," Ryou stammered, edging away from the older Ishtar to the washroom.

Turning back to face Bakura, Mariku's expression change to suspicious again, not bothering to reign in any menace now that Ryou was gone. Seeing him glance towards the door of Malik's room, Bakura bristled.

"Nothing happened," he ground out, as though trying to press it into the other boy's skull, "the kid was way too much of a mess. Though that is something of a shame…" Mariku rolled his eyes as the typical comment, but finally seemed to except he was telling the truth.

"Fine. I'll go make the brat something to eat and see if he can keep it down," he grumbled, and then proceeded to thud his way down the stairs.

Bakura stared after him with a puzzle expression. What the hell? Ryou appeared in the doorway again, staring after his almost-boyfriend with a sickeningly cute smile.

"Don't worry, Bakura; it's just Mariku's way of showing his love for his nii-san," Ryou explained sweetly, and Bakura just grunted in response.

Turning abruptly back to the door of Malik's room, he swung the door open, expecting the kid to still be out cold the way he had left him. Whether it was the combination of shouting, arguing, or stomping on the stairs, Malik was awake again, though he looked sleepily confused.

He proceeded to look even more confused, as Bakura closed the door behind him and walked over to shrug back into his shirt.

"You came back for your meds, and then on the way back to school we stopped for food. Apparently, there was fish or something in your food, cause you started puking, so we came back here and you've been sleeping it off ever since," Bakura summed up for his sake, as he finished buttoning up his shirt.

Malik's eyes widened, glancing down at his bed which was still covered with the mutinous, fluffy, pink thing.

"And yes, we slept together, though you did most of the sleeping," Bakura couldn't resist adding with a small smirk. This seemed to wake Malik up, or at least his sense of wit.

Jumping up, he gave Bakura his best look of disgust, scoffing, "like I would ever really _sleep_ with you."

"I don't know, we certainly talk about it enough," Bakura replied challengingly, admitting in his own way that he had enjoyed his time today with the kid, and that he was equally glad he was back on his feet.

"We talked about a lot of things today," Malik responded instantly, and then was unsure if that was a wise thing to do. Obviously, everything Bakura had confided in him about Amane and his ka-san was private, no matter how little it had been.

"Not that I'm going to, you know…share that stuff," he tacked on awkwardly, suddenly feeling out of his depth again.

"Tch, I know that," Bakura replied dismissively, making a beeline for the door, "I don't value you for your stupidity, after all."

Malik felt something in his stomach wiggle excitedly, decoding Bakura's words to say, perhaps in a lightly threatening way: _I know you won't blab to anyone; I like you because you're smart._

The topic of Bakura's feelings had come up quite a bit lately…Malik supposed he couldn't complain seeing as they had kissed and all. Flushing at the mere memory, he bound after Bakura, grabbing the other boy's arm to hold him back from opening the door.

For all he knew, Ryou and Mariku already knew all this, but he'd rather they didn't.

"Listen…about you, err…being there with me, and us, you know" –

"I know. It happens," Bakura cut him off monotonously. Malik gave him a questioning look, and Bakura just shrugged, pushing his hand off of his arm easily.

"You were sick, I was…comforting you, or some shit like that, and we kissed. It happens. Doesn't mean it meant anything," he said shortly, folding his arms impassively, staring Malik in the eyes boldly.

"It didn't?" Malik asked, not sure how he felt about that. In some ways, it confirmed his theory that Bakura wasn't really serious about whatever there was between them, if there was anything, and in others…well, it didn't exactly make him happy, either.

Bakura paused, and then said hesitantly, "Ka-san always used to say nothing has any value except what you give it." His gaze flickered to Malik's confused expression and he sighed, reaching out to muss his hair to mask his frustration.

"It's a chick thing, I thought you'd get it," he mocked, and Malik let out a cry of injustice, shoving Bakura back with a mock glare.

"If Ryou's here, you can hardly call me girly. That was his voice I hear earlier, right?" Malik questioned, reaching for the door handle curiously.

"Yah, he and your nii-san came crashing in a couple minutes ago. Don't except their maid service to last long," Bakura advised, and Malik gave a small cheeky grin.

"Don't worry; I plan to milk it for as long as possible." Bakura chuckled in appreciation, giving a small nod, before allowing him to escape out the door first.

Trotting out into the hallway, Malik cheerfully began to make his way down the stairs, before twisting around again to peek back at Bakura.

"Hey, 'Kura?" He called, and Bakura looked up with a noncommittal sound. "We might have some fish in the fridge somewhere that I won't be eating, you're welcome to it, _koneko_," he teased, and Bakura rolled his eyes.

He'd have to kill the 'kitty' habit before it got out of hand…but not just yet.

For now he might just take him up on that offer.

**A/N: Um…so…yah, that's it. I just had to wrap up this little adventure and give it some closure so that I could move on to the next scene which…ugh…scares me a bit...well, hopefully you all enjoyed this little tidbit of fluff! Any guesses as to what Ryou, Bakura, Malik, or Mariku's past might have held are always welcome ;)**


	28. Haunted

**A/N: Alright, so I kind of lied about how long this chapter was going to be…I mean, it is pretty long, but I actually had to cut it in half because it was getting ridiculously long. So a considerable amount of plot and angst is coming out next week…ehehehe yah, don't kill me! T_T**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

"Please pull out the packages I gave you at the beginning of class. You'll see that there are two slots for names –yes _only two_, no matter how much you beg –and I will be allowing you to pick your partners for this project," Sato-sensei announced, only to be cut off by a ripple of excitement and outbreaks of chatter around the room.

"But remember," she continued, raising her voice above it, "this is a culminating assignment. You will be assigned an ancient civilization, and you will write a report on it. It will be worth ten percent of your final grade, so please, do yourself a favour and pick a _responsible_ partner." With that said, she shot a meaningful glare in Bakura's direction.

He chuckled darkly, causing several people around him to shiver, making sure Sato-sensei know that she was only fuelling his penchant for mischief.

Malik quietly flicked his gaze over to the back of Bakura's head, wondering if he was the only one that found that trademark laugh a little sexy.

Sato-sensei continued to give them their final instructions for the project, but it was obvious that she'd lost most of the classes' attention, yet again.

Most people were glancing around furtively, some to be sure they'd get the partner they wanted, others probably fearing they'd get stuck with one of the deadbeats because they didn't know who to ask.

It was like a poorly planned, last minute Sadie Hawkins dance, only Mariku was in on it as well. In fact, it was fairly obvious what he was thinking, given the way he was staring over at Ryou in a focused manner.

Just as Bakura began to ponder what he'd have to do to get Malik to willingly work with him, he felt something scrape the back of his neck, and then hit the floor with a rustle. Peering behind him, he cussed under his breath, twisting an arm at an unnatural angle to scoop up the balled up piece of paper.

For the sake of whoever it was that threw it, and he had a good idea of who had, he flattened the paper out on his lap, and read it to himself, rather than making it a public joke. It read in a familiar, barely legible kanji:

_Those two both need to grow a pair, or at least one between the two of them. _

Bakura scoffed, but had to agree with the kid; it had been over a week since their little 'birthday kiss' and Ryou was still being a wimp, not to mention Mariku never told him to man up.

Picking up his pencil, he pondered what to write, and then smirked as an idea came to his devious mind.

Malik's eyes bore into the back of Bakura's head. He probably shouldn't have written that note; it was like he was constantly screaming 'boy crush', but he just couldn't help it lately.

Ever since Bakura made that comment about something only having as much meaning as you gave it, he hadn't been able to dislodge the boy or the torturous thoughts about how _gay_ it was of him to want to find out more about what meaning Bakura had given that kiss.

Finally, Bakura turned around non-too-subtly, tossing him a roguish wink, before throwing the wadded up paper so it landed perfectly on Malik's desk. The younger boy made a noise of discontent.

Why was it that Bakura could land it perfectly? What was so Ra-damned special about him?

Unfolding it quickly, he was unsurprised to find that the darker strokes of the Thief King's pencil were happy to criticize him on that as well.

_Your aim is shit_, it read, _but I suppose if you're begging, we can work together. Might get those two to stop being so fucking pathetic. If it doesn't work, you owe me my second jacket back. _

Malik rolled his eyes at Bakura's typical comment. The Thief King apparently wasn't all that great of a thief, or so Malik argued, because he owned a total of two school uniforms, and he'd left one of the boring, blue jackets at Malik's house when they were 'conserving body heat' together.

Of course, Malik was hardly going to bring it to school with him; their classmates already thought Mariku and Ryou were totally gay for each other, and grouped Malik in with them.

Bakura refused to haul his ass over to the Ishtar house without turning it into some sort of joke about his sexuality, so Malik, in response, refused to return the jacket.

After he found out about their little tiff over the jacket, Mariku had taken to bursting into his room at night in hopes of walking in on Malik cuddling it or something, but he hadn't managed to.

In fact, it was just hanging in Malik's closet, untouched except for when Malik first picked it up…okay, picked it up and maybe tried it on.

His ego was a little injured to find that, despite having a few inches on Bakura, the jacket wasn't quite as form fitting on Malik as it was on his owner.

Although, perhaps he should be grateful for Bakura's extra pounds in muscle, it had helped when he had picked him up on their impromptu 'date'…Malik felt a flush crawling into his cheeks, and shook it off impatiently. This obsessive crushing needed to end.

Just as he began to consider what he would write back, something to refute his little 'begging' comment, Sato-sensei released the class, and a sudden flurry of chaos prevented him from moving, let alone tossing a note.

Stuffing it in his bag, he barely had it away when someone approached his desk. He straightened up in his seat with a denial on his lips, only to have it die off.

It was…a _girl_.

Ra, he felt gay thinking that.

Still, with the people he'd taken to hanging out with, he didn't exactly have a lot of opportunity or desire to be talking with any girls. Like there wasn't enough drama between the four of them already.

"Err, can I help you…Len-san?" He asked, hoping his pause to recall her name wasn't too long.

"Well, since this is a project focusing on ancient civilizations, and you're Egyptian, I thought perhaps we could work together," she suggested in a quiet but confident tone.

Bakura, who had tuned into the exchange when Jinoto-san shot out of her seat in order to beat him to Malik's seat, gave a 'tch' of disapproval over her offer, though it was perfectly proper and respectful.

His little challenge changed that though, as she shot him a hard look for interrupting, and added, "Len-chan has the highest marks in the class, and Malik-kun must be very smart as well to have skipped ahead of his year."

This time, Malik blinked slightly in shock. Before, it had seemed a little weird that she was offering, but the use of her name in third person was a clear signal that was hoping for something more than a school partner.

"That's a, um, nice offer, but I…I already promised Bakura that I would…work with him…" Malik mumbled, feeling a nasty sinking sensation in his stomach. This confrontation was doing nothing for his status as straight, and he was afraid to look around in case anyone else was watching.

Bakura seemed to sense his discomfort, because, in true Bakura style, he strutted over like he owned the floor he walked on, and smirked just to make his gloating that much clearer.

Giving Bakura another unhappy look, she said, "ah, I see. I was hoping you weren't…but I suppose I should have known better." With that said, she promptly walked away in search of a new partner.

Malik stared after her, digesting her words, and then nearly jumped out of his seat in shock when Bakura plunked himself down beside him.

"What did she mean by that? Hoping I wasn't, what, already taken? It's not a crime to already have a partner…err, I mean to have chosen a guy as my…as my…oh fuck, why does everything I say around you always make me sound so _gay_?" Malik snarled irritably, glaring at the girl's retreating figure.

"Maybe because you are gay?" Bakura offered helpfully, propping his feet up on the desk lazily.

"I am no such thing," Malik insisted with a glower, before shoving Bakura's feet off his desk top immaturely.

"Besides, you're the only one who would benefit from me being gay, seeing as you'd do anything that had two legs and the right attachments," Malik sniffed haughtily, eyes darting around to see if anyone was listening in on their exchange.

"So you're admitting that you'd let me do you if you were gay?" Bakura replied with a raised eyebrow, completely ignoring Malik's snipe at his sexuality.

"Why do you talk about doing me so much? I realize I am rather attractive, but surely there is _someone_ you'd rather pester into sleeping with you," Malik all but pleaded, finding this sort of conversation much more humiliating in the middle of a classroom surrounded by his sempai, rather than in a small, quite café.

"Fine, I'll let that part go if it bothers you so much," Bakura finally relented, and, while Malik was slightly surprised by how easy it was, he was too relieved to much care why.

"I do want to know, however, why you think I'm the only one who you think would benefit. You said it yourself, you're attractive. There're lots of guys who would give you more than a one night stand," Bakura commented curiously with a piercing stare that had Malik squirming uncomfortably in his seat.

"I…can we please drop this? Talk about the project or whatever we're supposed to be doing?" Malik asked weakly, but Bakura held his ground. His face might as well have been carved of marble for all the letting up he was doing.

Sighing, Malik said in an embarrassedly, frustrated tone, "Because, nobody wants to be 'the gay guy', Bakura. It's not as easy to find someone who would want an actually relationship, as it is to find someone who will sleep with you."

Bakura gave him a disbelieving look, that, and it was hard for Malik to be certain he wasn't self-projecting, seemed tinged with a little hurt.

"What? It's true; you're the only guy I know other than our nii-san's who would be open about that sort of relationship, and you Touzoku's certainly don't seem all that eager about it."

"Tch, what's the point in having something if you're not going to brag about it? And don't compare me to Ryou, he's" –

"I'm what?" Ryou's voice suddenly interrupted, standing over the two quarrelling friends with what he probably assumed was a threatening posture.

In reality, he looked more like a ka-san who was scolding her naughty children, complete with hands on his hips. The sound of the lunch bell ringing in the background didn't do much to take away from the image.

"You're partnering with Mariku," Bakura improvised, and Malik glared at him. "Well, you _should_ partner with Mariku if he ever wants to get to second base," Bakura added, and Malik gave a sound of exasperation, thankful that their classmates were starting to file out of the room, eager to escape for lunch.

"Stop being such an ass, working together on a project hardly means that they're dating, let alone rounding the bases," Malik corrected, trying to go easy on Ryou's fragile nature, despite his earlier words about wanting to see the 'couple' man up.

The damage was already done, as was clear from Ryou's wide chocolate eyes that were staring doubtfully at Mariku.

"Well I…I don't mind working on the project, but…I-I…I can't" –

"Oh, shut up about the 'I can't' shit. These two can hardly talk, they're partnered up, but the fruit can't admit he's hot for the thief, and the thief can't even steal the one thing he wants," Mariku accused Bakura and Malik, the latter who flushed slightly.

If this surprised Mariku, he didn't have time to show it, because, following his announcement, he attempted to put an arm around Ryou's slender hips, but he practically flew backwards to avoid the coming embrace.

"Oi, what" –Mariku started to whine, but Ryou stepped strategically backwards out of range, arms wrapped around himself tightly.

"I'm sorry, but please…please don't touch me. I'm not really comfortable with that right now," Ryou said, tone quivering somewhere between nervous tremors and emotionless deadpan.

"Why the fuck not?" Bakura asked, narrowing crimson-tinted eyes at Ryou, as though daring him to confess something.

Malik shook his head at 'the game', as he had not-so-fondly dubbed it. The game, which entailed Bakura and Mariku taking turns using brusque, infective methods to shake the source of Ryou's psychological scarring out of him, didn't seem to do anything productive.

In fact, at times, it seemed almost as though Bakura was more trying to keep Ryou from revealing anything personal than trying to make him confess anything.

"You know why," Ryou whispered in a voice that fell more on the tremor side this time, large eyes glossy with tears he, thankfully, never shed in public.

"No, I don't," Bakura replied bluntly.

"You…you do, you both do," Ryou mumbled in an almost confused tone, casting his eyes ashamedly to the ground. With a sound suspiciously like a snarl, Bakura shot up from his seat and closed the distance between them with two strides.

One pale hand nearly disappeared in Ryou's mass of white hair, the only sign of it snagging a purchase being Ryou's cry of pain which was quickly followed by his head snapping backwards awkwardly.

"I _said,_ no, I don't," Bakura said in a quiet, ominous tone.

Malik stood slowly, feeling the tension in the air, as though it were a tangible thing. It seemed like something in the elder Touzoku twin had snapped, a level of patience which he normally held that was no longer there.

Why was he suddenly pushing Ryou like this? Normally, it seemed as though he didn't want anyone to even mention their personal life, least of all the Touzoku's.

"S-stop, Bakura," Ryou begged in a ragged tone, as he began to hyperventilate, "p-please, I can't…I can't get it out of my head…please let her go!"

Bakura did, indeed, let go, but not of a 'her', since the only person he appeared to be holding was Ryou.

"Don't be so weak," Bakura scoffed gruffly, though there was a slightly twisted expression on his face which one might call pain, or fear, or even…regret?

"Weak?" Ryou whispered, again with that heart wrenching kicked-puppy expression.

"Touzoku-san!" A sharp voice called out, and Malik's head swung in its direction, surprised to see Sato-sensei behind it. She looked weary as ever, but always ready to butt heads with the Thief King.

"Leave your onii-san alone. It looks like he's going to pass out," Sato-sensei chided, frowning lightly before turning to Ryou.

"Are you alright, Touzoku-chan? Do you want to go to the nurse?" Malik twitched slightly at the insulting use of 'chan' on a practically full grown boy's name, and it prompted him to speak up.

"Yah, you don't look so good, Ryou. I'll take you to Hiroto-sensei's office," he offered kindly. Ryou looked at him in an injured way, seeing dishonesty in his sympathetic offer.

Glancing to Sato-sensei, who was hesitating at the front of the classroom, he said quietly, "yes…I'll let Malik take me. Thank you, Sato-sensei…" he trailed off, seeming to lose his voice for a moment.

Obviously, this did little to convince Sato-sensei of his well being, but she had no choice but to nod uncertainly and continue on her way out the door. It fell silent once she was gone; Ryou's gaze focused once more on the floor.

Malik stared awkwardly between the two Touzoku's, not sure how to manoeuvre around this particular situation.

"So…do you…actually want to go?" Malik asked uncertainly, and Ryou cast him a peculiar look.

"You weren't just trying to trap me here?" Ryou asked in a confused tone, only serving to further confound Malik.

One minute, Ryou was a totally innocent kid, practically effeminate in his sweetness, but the next, he was seeing shadows where there were none.

"No, it's none of my business what issues you and Bakura have in your past. Everyone has issues, and not everyone likes to talk about them," Malik said, tossing Bakura a warning glance. Bakura simply curled his lip proudly, making a disapproving sound.

"You're just making him weaker by not making him confront his fear. He'll never get over it if you enable him," Bakura grumbled, but seemed to have retreated from whatever ledge he'd been perched on earlier.

In fact, he seemed ready to let it go, despite his words about enabling, when Ryou suddenly spoke up again.

"Weak?" He repeated softly, looking up at Bakura with haunted eyes that lacked their usual, weary mask. "You're calling _me_ weak, Bakura?" Bakura seemed to flinch at the words, though they hardly seemed accusing in such a soft tone.

"Don't," Bakura growled, immediately going on the offense. Ryou merely stared him down with solemn eyes. "Don't drag me into your little distorted vision, Ryou. We were nine. Nine year olds aren't responsible for anything other than spending their two dollar allowance on trading cards."

This time, it was Ryou's turn to flinch, a slightly more panicked expression overtaking his face.

"I-I didn't know that would happen if I told him…you never told me he would…" Ryou's mumbling was becoming more chaotic, guilt strewn heavily over his words, as he tangled his hands in his hair fretfully.

"I didn't know, either. Just because I've never been as soft as you doesn't mean I knew better," Bakura scoffed, allowing his frustration to loosen his lips.

This wasn't something he talked about, and the way it had come up with Malik mere days ago…he wouldn't willingly admit it, but it left him shaken. Some sadistic part of him needed to either let it all out or at least know that Ryou was more damaged over it than he was.

Because no matter how much Bakura pretended it didn't affect him and that he had rationalized away all his guilt…he couldn't. And the situation with Malik had only reminded him of that.

Ironically, at the moment, despite Bakura's small confession the last week, Malik was staring at Mariku, hoping that there someone equally confused.

Mariku, however, had remained strangely silent this whole time, shifting his gaze between the two Touzoku's as they spoke, in an eerily calm way.

"You must have known better. You tried to do something. You must have known," Ryou all but chanted, though doubt was apparent on his face, and doing nothing to calm him.

"I knew it was wrong when he started hurting ka-san, that doesn't mean I could read his mind to know what would happen if I let you tell him where we lived," Bakura retorted, "and don't you start fucking going off about how I knew something you didn't know. I know the exact same things you do –I was practically sitting on you in that bloody closet."

"I don't know anything," Malik offered helpfully, getting impatient of this back and forth with no one bothering to fill him in.

"And it should stay that way," Bakura snarled fiercely, realizing that the situation was slipping out of his control rapidly. He had practically forgotten that the Ishtar brothers were here.

"Well it's too late now. You two have been arguing about it right in front of us, we have a right to know what the hell this is all about, especially Mariku," Malik replied, irritated that Bakura would spill so much and _then_ decide it was a personal matter.

"Like I deserve the right to know why Mariku apparently off-ed your otou-san?" Bakura bit back in a scathingly acidic tone.

So Malik wanted to play that way? Fine, he wasn't the only one who had some skeletons in the closet.

At this, Mariku's head snapped up, and his dark, mauve gaze zeroed in on Malik's quickly paling face.

"I told him last week," Malik answered the unasked question miserably, knowing he was in shit now, "he was talking about his imouto, Amane-chan, and I just…I got caught up in my memories." "

Well, by all means, let's make the creampuff even more terrified of me, why don't we?" Mariku snapped sarcastically, gaze flickering darkly over to Ryou, who shuddered under his contemptuous look.

"Besides, you were the one who couldn't take the abuse anymore. He never had the balls to lay a finger on me," Mariku continued to rage, the first signs of a breakdown showing as he started to pace like a caged tiger.

Despite his calm performance as he listened to the two Touzoku's arguing, it had obviously been getting to him, as well.

"Well, no need to worry, his balls certainly got enough action while you were busy making yourself scarce, onii-san," Malik hissed, lavender eyes narrowing in his tanned face, shame rising in the form of a dark flush.

"And I fixed that mistake, didn't I? When you came crawling to me, because you couldn't make yourself kill him despite the way he dishonoured you? I did it for you, and I even made sure he never had a proper burial. I told you whatever I needed to tell you to appease your guilt, and then I got us the hell out of there. Didn't I do enough?" Spittle was practically flying from Mariku's lips, as he grew more animated in his fury.

Ryou cowered away from him, and even Bakura was a little disturbed by the raw emotion behind Mariku's slightly mad words.

No wonder he had had such an, ah, attitude adjustment after arriving in Japan.

"Your otou-san raped you?" Bakura finally asked, and Malik's expression grew stormier, an icy look taking over.

"Yes. I told you I wasn't a virgin," he said bluntly with a harsh laugh.

"He raped Malik…and you killed him?" Ryou suddenly said in a strained voice, looking up at Mariku with a mix of awe and terror.

His only answer was a pair of dark, tortured eyes locking with his own to confirm.

"That's better than I did," Ryou murmured shamefully, "But you already know that…"

"Why do you always insist I _know_ something?" Mariku snapped, stalking closer to Ryou, though the other boy's fragility seemed to have somewhat brought him back from his volatile state.

"Because if it's about the shit I said to you when we were kids, you should have realized by now I had just gutted my own otou-san, I hardly knew what I was talking about," Mariku continued, gaze still following Ryou's every movement carefully.

Ryou all but whimpered, backing away slowly.

"You know, though. Every time you t-told me not to look at y-you…because I was dirty…b-because I had seen things…t-the stories you told me…it was like you were there…and I always trusted you, just like I trusted him…but y-you were just like h-him, I-I shouldn't have trusted you, but I d-did! You would have hurt her too, and I still wouldn't have d-done anything," Ryou stammered, sounding crazier by the minute, as his breathing grew ragged, and he gnawed his lip to hold back the coming tears.

Bakura finally stepped in, clamping a hand to his distraught nii-san's shoulder.

"That's enough story tell" –he began, but Mariku ducked underneath his arm and came up forcibly between the two Touzoku's, both arms entrapping Ryou's waist.

The poor boy's breath caught noticeably in his throat –and didn't seem to start flowing again after that. He simply stood, petrified, in Mariku's grasp.

"If you're so fucking scared of whatever the hell I have in common with whoever the hell hurt your imouto, then why don't you _do something?_" Mariku pressed, shaking him slightly.

Ryou began to weep more openly, tearing at his hair frantically now, and Malik got the feeling that the demon Ryou was fighting wasn't the 'him' of his past, or Mariku right now, but inside of Ryou himself.

"Because _I want you_," Ryou finally let out in a voice that clung to the edge between moaning and screaming in pain. "And I wanted him, too; I thought he was…I thought he was _good_ and I _wanted_ him. I didn't understand…I was only nine…I didn't understand what my wanting him meant, and I didn't know what he would do once he knew where ka-san and Amane-chan were. I didn't know why it was hurting them, but I didn't do _anything_ because he was doing the things that he did to me_._ I…I knew it was hurting them, but I still…I didn't do anything, and o-onii-san tried to help…but he wasn't strong enough. Then when he dragged us into the closet to hide, I still…I didn't know…and I didn't…I trusted him…" Ryou's sentences began to break down, as he babbled about 'him' and 'them' and the evidently gruesome events leading up to his ka-san and imouto's death.

He ended up on his bottom on the classroom floor, clutching his knees to his chest, as he sobbed brokenly.

Mariku, who seemed to be taking this much more easily than Ryou was, stared down at him for a moment, and then sank to the ground beside him.

"Choose me," the Egyptian, with his wild blond hair murmured persuasively, staring straight into Ryou's teary face.

"W-what?" Ryou stammered in confusion, trying to wipe away his tears even as they continued to flow.

"You didn't get to choose him. He took advantage of you when you were too young to know better, so you thought what he was doing was okay, and you led him right back to your family, right?" Mariku asked in the same weirdly intense voice, rooting Ryou to the spot with his gaze.

Slowly, the pale boy nodded, unable to do anything else.

"If you choose me, I'll protect you, and Bakura will protect Malik. You'll never have to worry about your family again. The only reason I remind you of him is because I took advantage of your innocence and obsessed over you in the past. I'm not actually like him."

The more Mariku talked, the more Ryou's nodding increased, until he looked like a bobble head, reaching out a needy hand to tug on Mariku's shirt.

"Yes…yes, you were so much like him in that way…it made me want you, and it was so…it scared me, because it kept reminding me of him," Ryou agreed in a nervous tone, eyes wide, but bright for once, as though this really were a new concept to him.

Mariku slowly reached up his larger hand, and slid it over Ryou's in a secure grasp.

"So, this time, you choose me. I told you before; you're the one with all the power here. You know exactly how to break me, if you want to. Do you like that, little mouse?" He asked with small chuckle, as Ryou swayed forward, heavily lidded eyes showing how intoxicated he was by Mariku's words.

A part of his brain vaguely told him that he'd walked this road before, and that it hadn't ended well.

Bakura had always been the strong one, especially since Amane died in consequence of Ryou's trustingly innocent nature. But this time there was something more powerful between them.

Ryou had had no control last time, with the man of his past or with Mariku's psychological torture. Already, he found himself practically sitting in Mariku's lap and completely at his mercy.

Those bulging muscles that Ryou had seen more than his fair share of could easily break him in half –and yet, Mariku claimed to be no more potent than a kitten when Ryou rejected him or pushed him away.

In a way, he _did_ have power over the unstable Egyptian.

"You wouldn't ever…hurt someone?" Ryou asked hesitantly.

"Not unless they hurt you," Mariku promised, slowly drawing his fragile prize closer.

"Not even my otou-san?" Ryou continued to press, a strain of anxiety showing when he brought up his otou-san.

Mariku made a small face, knowing how Ryou's 'loving' otou-san had dealt with the death of his wife and daughter –certainly not in a way that favoured his still living sons.

"No, not if you didn't want me to," he managed, and Ryou let out a shuddering sigh of relief, looking down at the floor shakily. Reaching out again, Mariku grasped Ryou's hair in one hand, and his waist in another.

"Choose me, Ryou," he breathed in a desperate voice.

Malik almost felt embarrassed to be watching. It was something very personal that was treading the line of seductive, romantic, and a depth that he couldn't quite put a name to.

"When I do this," Mariku continued, seeing the flicker of fear in Ryou's eyes when he grasped at the boy's hair, "it's because I want you to feel how much I want you. You're broken and imperfect, but I'm addicted to that imperfection. So choose me, and let me prove that I'm not perfect, either, but I'll keep trying to be. As long as I can feel you holding onto me, I won't let anything else get broken."

"Please…please, I want that so badly," Ryou managed in a wobbly voice before launching himself into some sort of koala-hug-attack at Mariku's neck.

There was definitely the muffled sound of tears, but Mariku was holding the smaller boy so tightly that it was near impossible to see him except for a couple puffs of white hair.

**A/N: Abrupt cut-offs for the win! So…that was probably horribly confusing to most of you (as it was supposed to be) but worry not! The reason the second half of this chapter is so long is because it goes into detail about what happened in the Ishtar's AND the Touzoku's past. I just didn't think it was a good idea to randomly have a 10, 000+ word chapter in the middle of the story. **

**Oh, and it would actually make my life if someone were to notice the lyrics I inserted in this chapter which come from the song that inspired this story ;)**


	29. All the Broken Pieces

**A/N: Holy crap this chapter is long...other than that, all other notes for this chapter will be at the bottom, I don't want to give anything away ;) On a second note, though, I was dissapointed to find that no one recognized the song lyrics in the last chapter...then again, it was a Canadian song, eh? xD The song this story was inspired by/named for is called "Perfect" by Hedley and the lyrics to the chorus are: _I'm not perfect, but I keep trying, cause that's what I said I would do from the start. I'm not alive if I'm lonely, so please don't leave, was it something I said, or just my personality?_ **

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

Malik knew what he was witnessing was extremely personal, none of his business, and definitely the weirdest thing he'd ever seen his nii-san do, and that was saying something, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away.

Mariku began kissing his little treasure and whispering promises in his ears even as they watched, and the overall tenderness of the scene, however self-serving it may be for Mariku, was gag-worthy.

"Well…fuck."

Malik finally glanced away in surprise when Bakura's blunt words sliced through his concentration. With a sigh, seeing that his declaration of faith in this little union had caught Malik's attention, Bakura silently reached out and grabbed the blonde's arm, dragging him from the room.

"Ow, ow, ow –Bakura, where the hell are you taking me? Shouldn't we wait for them?" Malik complained, attempting to tug his arm back from Bakura's firm grasp. It didn't help that the scattered groupings of students throughout the halls who were also on lunch were giving them odd looks.

"No, Malik, I'm pretty sure they're busy," Bakura replied sardonically, with a dark strain to his voice.

What was wrong with him? It had seemed that he _wanted_ Ryou and Mariku to get together, before. Coming to a door, Malik took one look at the kanji sign and immediately balked away from entering with Bakura, who seemed to seriously be considering it.

"I am not going into the girl's change room with you," Malik hissed, feeling heat rise to his face furiously.

Admittedly, before coming to Japan, he had had little experience with anyone outside of his family, but when he was taken into the foster system his 'parents' had stressed the importance of staying out of his 'nee-san's' room numerous times.

A couple pinches and dinnerless nights taught him his lesson very well, and he had never been tempted to find out what was so mysteriously important about a girl's room ever since.

"You are now," Bakura responded in an undertone, throwing the door open and shoving a startled Malik through forcefully.

"What? You have a problem? Keep walking, chubby," Bakura snapped rudely at a larger girl who had stopped to stare at the incredibly odd sight.

To be fair, it wasn't often you saw an albino teenager shoving an Egyptian boy into the girl's changing room, and trying to pull it off as perfectly normal.

Feeling Malik desperately clawing around him in an attempt to get out of his taboo prison, Bakura settled with glaring at the girl, rather than threatening her off of spreading any gossip.

Shutting the door firmly behind him, Bakura twisted around and hauled Malik around the bend in the wall to the open main room which was ringed by a bench and haloed with florescent lights.

"B-Bakura, we really shouldn't be here," Malik stammered quietly, looking wide-eyed around at the bench which was covered with an assortment of bags, skirts and shirts.

"What? It's not like they take their bras and panties off unless they're swimming," Bakura defended, shoving aside a couple packs brusquely, and then shoving Malik equally brusquely down in their place.

"W-what do you think you're doing?" Malik demanded, as he batted Bakura's hands away nervously. Bakura stepped back, raising an eyebrow incredulously.

"Just trying to keep you where I can see you so you Ishtar's will stop blindsiding me," Bakura replied dryly, though the rapid tapping of his foot and twitch of his fingers hinted that he wasn't coping as well with this 'blindsiding' as his tone implied.

"Um…are you okay?" Malik asked awkwardly, though he found himself calmer, as he realized there wasn't anything incriminating in the change room, let alone any females.

It may have also helped to know Bakura wasn't trying to pull a fast one now that Mariku and Ryou were…distracted.

"No," Bakura answered shortly, and Malik supposed he shouldn't be surprised by his blunt honesty, but he was anyways. The Thief King let out a muffled groan of frustration, and began pacing to kill the jitters that were coursing through his body.

At this point, he would normally go out and steal something to calm himself down, but he had made a direct promise to Ryou that he wouldn't steal from the school. Ryou was certain their otou-san would be even more ashamed of them if they had to move schools again, and he still blamed enough of what had happened when they lived in England on himself.

The other emotional release that Bakura had found as he got older was sex, but, as one glance in Malik's direction confirmed, that wasn't going to happen any time soon. Especially not with what had come up in the classroom mere minutes ago…

"Tell me about what happened with your otou-san," Bakura suddenly demanded, wheeling around to face Malik again. The kid immediately became still, before slowly drawing his knees to his chest.

"I'd rather not," he said coldly, staring Bakura down intensely.

"It doesn't affect you anymore?" Bakura sneered, as though finding that hard to believe.

"Of course it does," Malik responded hotly, "but that doesn't make it your business. I had a bad childhood. Lots of kids do. I screwed up my own nii-san by not being able to deal with it on my own, and then I screwed up _your_ onii-san by unleashing Mariku on him." Malik sighed shakily, shaking his head harshly.

"But I know that wasn't my fault." Bakura fell silent, pausing in his pacing for a moment.

"I can't comment on your past, but the part with Ryou wasn't," he finally said, struggling to keep his tone neutral, "I'm sure you've figured it out already, but he was diagnosed with PTSD after…after he took the blame for what happened to ka-san and Amane."

"PTSD? Isn't that what soldiers get?" Malik asked, shaken out of his icy coolness by surprise.

"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder just requires a trauma, and our childhood was very traumatic for him," Bakura responded irritably, as though Malik had insulted him by implying that Ryou was less traumatized than he obviously was.

Calming himself, he added hesitantly, "As you've seen, anything that reminds him of what happened makes him panic. Your onii-san just happened to do a particular good job of that on a regular basis. Not that he told me."

There was a definite tinge of bitterness to that last part, and Bakura was quick to resume his pacing. After following him with his eyes for several long moments, Malik finally decided his curiosity over the disjointed timeline of events was worth striking a deal to resolve.

"I'll offer you a deal," he offered quietly, uncertainty already rising up within him. "You think this is a good time to joke around about deals?" Bakura snarled, and Malik flinched back towards the wall.

"I wasn't joking. I want to know about your past, and you want to know about mine. I'll…I'll even go first," he muttered, and stared at the ground stubbornly.

A pair of sneakers came into his vision, and for a moment he was certain he was going to get a kick in the face for his trouble. His eyes closed on reflex –but all that followed was a disgruntled sigh and a thump that indicated Bakura sitting down beside him.

"I'm a sick and twisted bastard, aren't I?" Bakura asked quietly, jerking his fingers through his knotted hair.

"Maybe," Malik responded evenly, and Bakura shot him a glare, though his mouth twisted unwillingly into a small smirk.

"You're really good at this comforting thing aren't you?" He mocked, and Malik rolled his eyes.

"Like you were so much better," he replied, and as the words left his mouth he realized what he was implying. There eyes met for a moment, and then he quickly looked away, flustered.

"Not that I…I mean…oh, whatever, we already had that conversation. Besides, it's not like there's all that much to my story," Malik quickly covered up.

Bakura considered pressing Malik about what was wrong with his form of 'comfort', but figured the kid was probably utterly confused anyways, without Bakura messing him up more.

"So? If it's short, it shouldn't be hard to tell," he challenged instead, and Malik folded his arms uncomfortably.

"Well…I was born in Egypt, as you know. Mariku was born first, and then me a year later. My otou-san was always a little bit on the…different side, you might say, so he didn't let my ka-san go to the doctor, or really leave the house at all.

He said that the gods were punishing me for trying to emerge from ka-san too soon after they already had one son, and that, in her jealousy, Isis killed ka-san to make sure she would be barren forever.

In retrospect, it doesn't make much sense, but nii-san inherited otou-san's gift of story telling, and if that's anything to go by, it's no wonder that I was so easily convinced that I was cursed.

Anyways, because he was the first born, otou-san never tried to hurt Mariku like he did me, but he blamed me for my ka-san's death. At first, I took his beatings because he convinced me that I deserved them, but the older I got the more I realized that otou-san had lost it when ka-san died.

No other woman would marry such a controlling man, and he always scared them away with his roughness. My ka-san brought grace into his life, kind of like…" Malik glanced nervously at Bakura, but he just nodded.

"Like Ryou puts up with Mariku and makes him see sense," Bakura agreed.

"I think my otou-san was always a little eccentric, you know, convincing himself that he knew what the gods were thinking, but it was so much worse on the days that he went out and saw…saw women that reminded him of ka-san," Malik continued, a slight tremor in his voice.

"He sometimes thought that maybe it was her ba, released from her body after she died, but attached to another immediately so that he could find her again. In the end, though, he always decided that it wasn't her.

It made him crazy with grief to realize he had not found her, after all, and that was when he would rape me.

He believed, as most do, that Khnum created me on his potter's wheel, and inserted me into ka-san. Meskhenet was then supposed to breathe my ka into me –but that was when his logic broke apart in his grief.

He became more and more convinced each time he thought he had found my ka-san's ba that her ba was out there, wandering, unable to unite with her ka in the afterlife, because in the moment of my birth I stole my oka-san's spirit, her ka, and took it for myself.

So, along this logic, his thought that…that having…_sex_ with me would transfer some of her ka back into him, so that with his ba and her ka they could form an akh together when he moved onto the afterlife, and his abandoned ka would find her wandering ba in this world."

Bakura felt his head spinning, trying to follow the convoluted logic. Egyptian mythology wasn't exactly his expertise, but even he knew the Ishtar's otou-san had messed something up along the way.

That just wasn't the way it worked, if these things worked at all, which Bakura didn't think they did, but he wasn't about to say that to Malik.

"I didn't understand his logic at all, but I knew it was wrong," Malik said, echoing Bakura's thoughts perfectly. "I just knew that there was no way I had stolen my ka-san's spirit. If I had I would have been able to calm otou-san the way she had…but I never could.

Nothing I said, no sound I made, no screaming, ever got through to him. Still, I was too weak to resist, and too young to realize that, on the few occasions I was able to leave the house, telling someone else about what was happening might have gotten me out of that place."

"You did eventually, though," Bakura pointed out.

His mental timeline informed him that Mariku had been in Ryou's class when they were eleven, so they must have been in Japan before the Touzoku's arrived.

Even if they came only the year before that would have made Malik only nine at the oldest, since he was younger than Mariku by a year.

"Not until I was seven," Malik explained patiently, swallowing down his emotions with difficulty.

"Because…?" Bakura prompted, and Malik shuddered painfully.

"Because, he…he did something bad. Much worse than what he did to me," Malik replied, fighting back the tears of revulsion desperately. It had been hard enough not to cry out when he first saw it with his own eyes.

Bakura raised an eyebrow but smartly remained silent this time. Worse than raping his own son? Apparently, the kid did have an altruistic streak.

"He…he found another woman while he was working, one who he was certain held my ka-san's ba. He kidnapped her and brought her home…he knocked out a defenceless woman and…and he…"

"Killed her," Bakura finished for him, realizing that Malik was unable to make the words come out.

"He thought that he knew how to release her…he thought…I don't know. I don't know what he was thinking, but what he did was unforgiveable, terrible. That was when I had to tell Mariku," Malik let out shakily, looking away with another shudder.

"When I told him, Mariku was also disgusted by otou-san and he promised to…to punish him. The noises woke me up in the night, but by the time I worked up the nerve to go downstairs the screaming had stopped, and Mariku had covered him with a sheet so I wouldn't see."

Malik felt the next part catching in his throat, and dropped his face to his hands in frustration and shame.

After only brief hesitation, Bakura decided to try what had worked last time: he reached out and pulled the lean Egyptian into his lap, looping his arms around his waist from behind.

Malik let out a sadly startled noise, but it was almost as weak as his attempt to resist settling into his friend's comforting embrace. He knew it was the best Bakura could do to sympathize with his pain.

Looking up at Bakura slowly, Malik's gaze wavered, confusing emotions battling within them.

"He'll tell you, Mariku will, that I asked him to kill otou-san, and I let him say so, because I don't want him to…you know, lose it again, but…but I don't remember doing that.

I remember that I told him about what otou-san did to that woman, and to me, and then Mariku promising to punish him…but I don't think Mariku meant to kill him then. I think he went too far and that was when he…he…"

Bakura pulled Malik's head down to his neck, letting him stay there for a moment as he fought off the tears and confusion of his muddled childhood. On one hand, it was hard to forget such a traumatizing event, but on the other, Bakura knew all about trying to recall exactly what happened so fast so long ago.

"Psychoses run in the family, you know. Mariku probably had…has…whatever your otou-san had. He had a break with reality, or maybe he thought the gods were telling him he had to and later rationalized it away as you asking him to. He was only eight, Malik, he couldn't have known better than you."

Malik nodded slowly, breathing deeply into Bakura's cool skin before sitting up and pulling away slightly though is fingers remained loosely knotted in his jacket.

"You were older than him, right?" Malik asked, needing to hear that he wasn't the only messed up one. It was obvious that he was referring to what had happened with the Touzoku's ka-san and Amane-chan, but it wasn't as easy for Bakura to respond as it had been to listen.

After all, he still held some of his own guilt over what had happened, and it was hard to say that Mariku wasn't guilty when he himself was barely older than the elder Ishtar on the day of the 'accident'.

"I was nine," Bakura finally responded evenly, pulling Malik back to his chest swiftly. If he was going to tell this story, he wasn't going to tell it looking someone else in the eyes.

He was afraid his emotions would get the better of him, seeing Malik react to everything that had happened, and he would give away what he was really feeling.

Guilt was the last thing he wanted Malik to believe was the right emotion.

"When we were kids living in England, me and Ryou used to play a lot of card games, you know, the type where you collect them and build your deck to beat other players. Ryou was a sweet kid so he felt bad beating other people, but I was pretty ruthless in taking on the other kids at school," Bakura chuckled slightly at the memory.

"I bet you were a bastard back then, too," Malik teased, and Bakura flicked the back of his head lightly.

"I guess so. Mostly, I just wanted to be the onii-san my ka-san wanted me to be. She told me that Ryou was sweet and innocent, but he wasn't powerful like me, so it was my job to take care of Amane and Ryou, and not let anyone take advantage of them.

She was worried they would try to stop being innocent and good if they were ever put down for their attitudes, but she didn't realize that it was that innocence that would get Ryou in the most trouble."

"Was she like them?" Malik asked quietly, wrapping his arms gingerly around Bakura's waist. He felt like a child despite being taller than his 'friend', but this reminded him of when Mariku would tell him stories when they were younger.

He really was a great story teller, even if his stories weren't always the good type.

"She was just like them. It was me who is like our otou-san. I push people away and rationalize away anything I do wrong," Bakura admitted with a sigh, though he'd come to terms with this a long time ago and accepted it.

"Ka-san was wonderful to everyone. Even though she had experienced some hurts in her life, she kept the faith that most people were good if you gave them the chance. That was the way she raised the three of us, but Ryou took her literally and trusted everyone, and I saw that she only meant for us to give people a chance, not to forgive and accept anything."

"That was his attitude when he met the man who sold us the trading cards at the nearby convenience store. Ryou was so proud that otou-san and ka-san trusted him to go on his own after he turned nine, and he would always offer to go get a slushy for me or a new pack of cards just so he could show that he could do it on his own.

Sometimes it took him a really long time to come back, but he was always excited and apologetic when he returned. He said he'd made friends with the man who worked behind the counter.

I made fun of him for having a crush, and when ka-san overheard one time, she reprimanded me strictly. She was very firm that there was nothing wrong with having a crush on anyone, as long as they were a good person.

I understood what she meant, but I don't think Ryou did, because he still believed that everyone was good. I started following him to the store and waiting outside, because I knew ka-san expected me to protect him, and I wanted to make sure the man Ryou had a little crush on was a good person.

Ryou never complained about him, but Ryou never complained about anything. Finally, I decided to go in and meet the man Ryou was always so happy to see. It was after school one day, and, while he was kind of touchy-feely, you know, ruffling Ryou's hair, giving him hugs and shit, he didn't seem dangerous to me at the time.

He acted excited to meet Ryou's onii-san, and I wasn't surprised to know that Ryou talked about me a lot. Ryou was always complimenting other people and bragging about our family.

He said that he wanted to meet Amane-chan, because he was sure she would be just as sweet and cute as we were. I didn't like that he said that, because what nine year old boy likes to be called cute?

Still, I didn't see the problem with Ryou telling him where we lived and telling him to come visit us so he could introduce him to our family. The man was very gracious, and Ryou was so excited when he left that he ran home to tell ka-san all about it.

She was happy for him, but later asked me stay around Ryou and Amane-chan when he came over. She said that she didn't want Amane to be scared by a stranger, but I knew it was because she was worried that he wasn't a good person, even then.

Amane was never scared of anyone, after all, just like Ryou.

It happened the next day, when he first came over. I think the only reason nothing happened that first time was because otou-san was there. The man Ryou was crushing on was really uncomfortable around otou-san, because, like I said, otou-san is more like me.

He's not innocent and forgiving, and he had heard some rumours about someone working in that convenience store, and he wasn't convinced it wasn't this man. He left soon after that, and otou-san argued with ka-san about whether or not it was safe to have him over.

Eventually, ka-san promised to make sure she was home whenever he came over, and that I would supervise all of their 'play dates'. I think it was that conversation that haunts my otou-san, even today.

The bastard never comes home, and when he absolutely has to he won't look Ryou in the eye. It's the only way he can rationalize away the fact that he knew something was wrong, and he didn't do anything to stop it. He doesn't even have the excuse of having been too young to know better," Bakura scoffed, tightening his grip on Malik.

Taking a calming breath, he forced himself to relax. It wouldn't do to take his emotions out on Malik. His otou-san might be a bastard now, but Malik wanted the untainted version of the story –and, to be honest, he didn't really want to think about all the things he should have been thinking about then.

"It was about a week later that it finally happened. The man came over and knocked on the door, just like it was a normal visit. I opened the door for him, and he even acted normal, way too touchy-feely, and way too happy to see Ryou and imouto, but it was what I expected.

When ka-san came out though, he wasn't very happy to see her. I really should have known better when he asked if otou-san was home, but ka-san just told him that, no, he wasn't, and that the man should have called before he came over.

The man laughed about it and apologized, but said that he hoped we would let him stay. She did, but she kept finding reasons to walk in on us while we were in the play room, and I started to notice how much it was agitating the man.

When Amane-chan started to cry once because the man accidently knocked over her block tower, he pulled her right into his lap to comfort her. Ka-san came running into the room after that, and called us over to her, and asked him to leave."

"I knew something was really wrong then. I had never heard ka-san ask anyone to leave early before, and I had definitely never seen Amane not come when ka-san asked her to, so I knew it was because he wouldn't let her go.

He said that they were still having fun and pinned Amane to the ground. He was blowing raspberries on her belly and pretending it was fun, but Amane told him she didn't like it and that he was mean.

He got really angry after that, and picked her up by her hair to see if she liked that better. I knew that wasn't okay, because I'd tried it on Ryou before, so I ran over and tried to stop him, but he was obviously much stronger than me.

One hit had me on the ground and when ka-san tried to help me, he picked me up and threw me into the staircase banister behind her.

I was seeing stars and couldn't make myself get up, but I think he must have dropped Amane to throw me, because that was when she stopped crying."

Malik's fingers clenched around Bakura's waist, biting down hard on tongue. He knew that Bakura wouldn't want him to say anything or make any noise, but it was so hard. His imouto…Amane-chan…how little must she have been that a short fall could do that?

Had it knocked her out, or had it broken her neck?

Was she still aware of what the man did to her after that?

It was terrible to even imagine.

"After that, I couldn't make my legs stand up right, but I could move a little bit at a time without getting too dizzy. With my eyes open, I could see Ryou sitting outside the playroom.

His back was to me, but at the time I thought he must have been stunned or hurt, because he wasn't doing anything, he was just…watching.

My ears were ringing, so I couldn't tell you if ka-san told him to run, or if anyone else was even aware that he was still sitting there except for me, but I knew that ka-san would want me to take care of him.

I made my way over to him, and told him that we had to go. He did seem a bit stunned, and I was still having trouble hearing, but I remember him asking was why ka-san struggled so much, because that made it look like it hurt a lot more.

He also said something about Amane, but I had to focus all of my concentration on guiding us back to closet in the hallway without falling over and drawing attention to us.

He kept telling me I was bleeding and that I should go get a band aid, but I convinced him otou-san would get me one after we called him.

We got into the closet, and I found ka-san's cell phone in her jacket pocket. She always said it was only for when we were going out, so that otou-san would never have to worry.

I wasn't sure if I was doing the right thing, but I called him anyways, and I told him that the man was not a good man and that he was doing bad things to ka-san and Amane-chan.

Ryou kept interrupting to say that he was sure that wasn't true, so I hung up the cell phone so that otou-san wouldn't think I was lying. I guess he believed me more than Ryou, because eventually the police came.

When I heard them, I let Ryou get out of the closet, and then I followed after him, but my head was still bleeding and the world was even more blurry than it had been when I got in the closet. A police man tried to help me, but it was Ryou I was worried about.

I knew it was him, because he was the only one who was a white blur instead of a dark blue blur. He was just standing and staring at the play room again. That was when I knew ka-san and Amane-chan were gone.

I couldn't see the blood on the toys, or their bodies, but I heard Ryou when he started screaming, and I've heard him screaming waking up from the nightmares often enough since then to know that my head wound was some sort of fucked up blessing if there is a twisted god out there."

The silence seemed oppressive in the change room after the two dark stories were finished. Malik shifted in Bakura's lap, horror squeezing his heart.

"That's so…you mean he…using the toys…?" Malik asked shifting to look up at Bakura with awestruck revulsion. Bakura's face was also twisted into a sickened expression of fury, fists clenched so tight that they shook where they held Malik's jacket.

"Ryou can't even go near daycares anymore, they set off the flashbacks. He says he keeps imagining that he's seeing the daycare workers using the toys to bash in the kids'" –

"Stop, oh Ra, stop, Bakura," Malik finally pleaded, feeling his stomach bubbling with repulsion. He wasn't sure how much more of the story he could take. After several deep breathes, he managed to calm his gurgling stomach, and morbid curiosity took over once more.

"How has Ryou managed to cope with that for so long? I think…I don't know what I would have done, to be honest, but I don't think I could have lived with that going through my head all the time," Malik admitted with a shudder. Bakura's grip tightened on him automatically.

"It's not like he deals with it well, as I'm sure you've seen. First he panics, and then he just shuts down completely. Daycares, grabbing his hair, men with children…Mariku…they all set him off. Sometimes even just an innocent toy or going past a convenience store will get to him," frustration mounted in Bakura's voice as he spoke, obviously accustomed to dealing, perhaps poorly, with Ryou's breakdowns.

"Medication?" Malik suggested weakly, knowing the answer before he even asked.

"He won't even try it," Bakura replied with disgust heavy in his voice, "he thinks he's atoning for his guilt by suffering."

"Doesn't he realize he's making you suffer, too?" Malik asked, surprised that Ryou of all people would turn a blind eye to someone else's suffering.

"Do I look like I'm suffering to you?" Bakura asked in an icily, cutting voice, and Malik shivered slightly under the look.

"Well you certainly don't sound like you're enjoying cleaning up after him," Malik shot back, not sure if it was wise or not.

Evidently, not was the answer, as Bakura's expression flashed anger, and then Malik was lying flat on his back on the change room bench. The angry Touzoku kneeled over top of him, arms locked behind Malik's head.

Malik's breath hitched in fear and a twisted sense of arousal, as he felt Bakura's forearms pressing into his upper arms. It gave him the distinct impression that moving them at all would cause a great deal of pain.

Bakura's eyes were level with his own, glaring fiercely into his face, as though to promise that he wouldn't hesitate to inflict that pain, should he feel the need to.

"Listen carefully," he said in a deadly whisper that went straight to Malik's groin. Oh Ra, why was this turning him on so badly?

He would have been more repulsed, but that cold expression had him feeling dazed, and all he could manage was, "Hard not to when you're all up in my face like this."

All his smartass response got him was Bakura's long fingers tangling painfully in the flaxen locks at the base of his skull. This time, Malik was smart enough to simply whimper slightly at the unjustness of the situation, and his body's uncalled for reaction.

"I said, listen fucking carefully," Bakura repeated with a slight snarl. "My ka-san is dead. Imouto is dead. Otou-san might as well be dead. Ryou is pathetic, he's weak, and he's needy, but I've lived with him for a long time, and he hasn't lost it yet.

He's smart and determined to prove that he's going somewhere, so don't fucking tell me that I should guilt him into medicating his brain into mush. Just because it didn't set Mariku back too far doesn't mean Ryou would be able to adjust so easily.

If he wants to have nightmares and have a fucked up relationship with someone who terrifies him, that's Goddamn fine by me. He's going to move on with his life and do whatever the fuck he wants with it, and I won't have a part in telling him what to do then or now. Got it?" Bakura demanded furiously, fingers becoming so tight that Malik had to clench his teeth in pain.

How did they go from cuddling to this?

What sort of nerve did Malik touch that would make Bakura so absolutely livid?

"I think you're scared of him moving on. You can't protect him when he goes off and does things you don't approve of," Malik spat back, now squirming desperately away from Bakura's painful grip and their bodies' uncomfortable closeness.

He knew Bakura was probably going to be beyond pissed off at Malik for accusing him of such weakness. His punishment would probably be worse than just ripping out a chunk of hair, and Malik was right, it was –it just wasn't at all what he thought it would be.

It was a little like being punched square in the mouth, but it didn't hurt nearly as much, and it was a lot more…wet. Not that Malik hadn't kissed and been kissed by females before, but, to his credit, Bakura was a much fiercer kisser than any of them had been.

In contrast to the tender kiss they had shared on Malik's bed, this one was wild, and harsh, and involved a lot of Bakura's tongue laying Malik's to shame.

It felt like Bakura was trying to bruise his mouth in punishment for suggesting he was afraid of what would happen if he once again ceased protecting his sibling, but, at the same time, a sense of smugness in the back of Malik's head informed him that Bakura's passionate kiss was like a desperate confession of his weakness.

It was exhilarating, and wrong, terribly wrong, Malik knew this, but he found himself kissing back with reckless abandon. He would later rationalize it away as protecting his own pride in the face of Bakura's 'attack', but it was truly pleasure that drove him to lock lips with the Thief King.

The kiss ended in just as jarring and abrupt a fashion as it began, only now Malik had to force down a shiver from the lack of heat hovering over top of him.

Struggling up onto his elbows, his heavily, lust lidded eyes took in the features of he Thief King standing over him, suddenly seeming to tower in comparison to Malik's prone position.

He barely made it to his feet, hoping to level the playing field now that Bakura was in Ra-knew-what state of mind, when he found his back pressed awkwardly to the wall this time.

He could barely keep his feet, as his knees were forced to buckle against the bench and his spine to the concrete bricks. He gagged slightly, feeling Bakura's forearm digging into his gold-protected windpipe and effectively preventing him from lurching forward again.

The only slight mitigating factor to the uncomfortable situation was that he could now see that Bakura was breathing heavily from their impromptu make out session, however short it had been.

"I never want to hear you bring up my family's business ever again. The way I live my life has absolutely nothing to do with you. When you're dealing with your little situation on your own tonight, just remember that I'll be out having someone else take care of mine. This afternoon meant nothing to me, the same way it shouldn't mean anything to you."

This time his cold tone and barbed words sent no thrills through Malik's body. If anything, he felt his situation wilting, as Bakura released him and disappeared out the change room door.

_Nothing has any value except for what you give it._

It seemed that, for Bakura anyways, the value he had placed in their interactions was simple: they were tolerable so long as they weren't personal. As soon as they crossed that line though, Bakura would say whatever he had to say in order to push Malik far enough away to keep himself and his weaknesses safe.

Maybe he didn't have panic attacks or wake up screaming from nightmares, but he was every bit as broken as Ryou, and there wasn't a soul alive who could get close enough to pick up the pieces.

…

_Its funny how many people refuse to believe the white is natural. You'd think it would occur to them to look down here if they really wanted to know. Not like I'm going to bleach my dick, after all._

Actually, there was nothing funny about that thought at all. He was just distracting himself from the inevitable wave of bitter self disgust he felt when he looked at down at the mess he'd made all over his hand and sheets.

Ryou wasn't going to be happy about having to wash his bedding again so soon after laundry day.

That was yet another fleeting thought meant to distract from the bitterness he was feeling.

Admittedly, he didn't really give a damn if Ryou was upset about having to do laundry. Lying back on the bed, he decided that he also didn't care that his sheets were soiled or that he was still stark naked.

He wanted to just sleep the nightmare of today away. Maybe when he woke up Ryou wouldn't be practically glowing with happiness even when Bakura snapped at him, and maybe he'd actually still have a personal life instead of…well, a rather public one now, he supposed.

Despite having relieved himself of the ache building up thanks to his earlier…situation…he didn't feel tired at all. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it read a disparaging 9:30pm.

What was he, five?

Going to bed before 10:00pm was for people who believed they need 'beauty sleep', or some shit like that.

He would go out and prowl the town, but…a sigh escaped his frustrated lips, as his thoughts came full circle. Goddamn kid was haunting his thoughts and making him feel these alien emotions.

With the sole exception of the accident in his childhood, Bakura had been able to successfully rationalize away any feelings of guilt, no matter what the situation…up until this afternoon.

He had _meant_ to punish Malik by engaging in that…enlightening battle of tongues in the change room.

He had _meant _to send out a warning that his attachment to the boy was not so strong that Malik could take advantage of him.

He had _meant_ to cause him sufficient discomfort about both his sexuality and over the idea that Bakura would be out hooking up with whomever he wished tonight.

Unfortunately, no matter what he had _meant_, all of it had backfired.

One thing he hadn't counted on was for Malik to be quite so eager about returning his passionate kiss, and it had dragged out for longer than Bakura wanted before he summoned the willpower to break it off.

For another, he hadn't expected just the knowledge of Malik becoming extremely aroused by his anger and proximity to affect himself in a similar manner. Given, he had suspected that kissing Malik would cause him some sexual stimulation, but not to such a degree.

The real problem in all of his short comings today, though, was that he simply misjudged his own strength.

He thought he wouldn't be so aroused by the other boy coming on to him.

He thought he would be able to manipulate Malik with a heart of stone rather than seeking pleasure in the other boy's willing kiss.

He thought he would have enough anger inside him over Malik's blatant disregard for the privacy of his family to ignore his romantic feelings for one night and release some of his sexual tension elsewhere.

He truly tricked himself into believing he would find solace and release in a stranger's arms tonight.

But he had underestimated himself and his guilt.

The thought of another man or woman touching him was repulsive.

In order to become aroused enough to do anything he'd have to spend the whole time imagining everything he was doing as being with Malik, not a stranger, and that rather defeated the purpose.

All in all, the person he had managed to prove something to was himself, and it was a sad, sad reality that he found himself waking up to.

**A/N: So…that kind of killed me to write…gah, angst is brutal on my fluffy inner authoress. I hope you all liked it though, and that it answered any questions! Man, I set out to write one thing…and it completely changes and morphs as I write it! Seriously, fun fact, the scene with Mariku and Ryou was supposed to take place in the cafeteria, and Bakura was supposed to explain this all really shortly and bluntly to Malik with barely any details after Malik insisted on knowing. They also weren't supposed to have a falling out afterwards or kiss at all. Also, I had hardly planned any of the Ishtar's past other than the fact that Malik was beaten and raped by his otou-san; I started reading up on Egyptian mythology and *POOF* this…THING, appeared! My writing never obeys me, but…hopefully it was okay? Please review, I need to know what people are thinking more than ever now!**


	30. Scream

**A/N: While I feel bad that this chapter took so long to get up, I don't really feel like I can apologize for waiting until I had the inspiration to write more. Trust me, I tried to force myself to write some of this chapter and…well, it wasn't pretty. Hopefully, I didn't lose too many readers in the wait between updates, but I'm back, and with enough inspiration to finish the homestretch of this fic (I think..)! So, try to sit back and enjoy this new chapter :) **

**P.S. this chapter was named after yet another Hedley song…anyone else love writing to music? I certainly do! So, thank Hedley for me getting this chapter up ;D**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

"Bakura…" Malik said wearily in warning, as the thief in question began to tense, teeth visually gnashing together in irritation.

"Why are they so Goddamn touchy-feely all the fucking time?" Bakura complained irritably, mahogany eyes watching as his nii-san and Mariku entered the cafeteria.

Taking a cursory glance, Malik was unsurprised to find they were only holding hands, as they made their way over.

Ever since their show down in the change room a month ago, Bakura had taken a different approach to his denial about his fearfully overprotective behaviour –in fact, he did the opposite. He showed his 'lack of fear' by being blatantly obvious about his dislike of the romantic union.

He claimed it wasn't over protectiveness, but common sense to keep a careful eye on the mentally unstable couple.

Part of Malik wanted to agree –he sometimes feared that Mariku's moments of aggression hinted at a relapse…but, for the most part, he pitied the couple. Two mental disorders and such wildly differing personalities made for a difficult road, and Bakura was bent on not letting them forget it.

Forever caught in the middle of the warring sides, he feared he would soon lose his own mind.

"They're just holding hands," he finally pointed out to his angry companion, who merely glared at him. Malik sighed, and tried not to roll his eyes too obviously.

He had always known he was a manipulator and good at working for his own interest, even if that wasn't the most attractive character trait. All the same, normally, he'd make a great middle man.

Unfortunately, since Bakura's drastic behaviour was a direct result of proving Malik wrong, it made it impossible to truly work with him. The best he could do for the childish Thief King was stay out of his way.

At first, he thought Bakura was get over it, maybe not open up about his fear, but push it aside for Ryou's happiness, or at least so he would stop making himself look like the bad guy.

Apparently, Bakura didn't give a damn about being subtle at this point though, no matter how he prided his attitude as a thief.

It had been a month, after all, and he had yet to lay off his punishing attitude. It just seemed to get worse every day, especially today of all days.

It had been _exactly_ a month since Ryou and Mariku became openly romantic together, and this fact was not lost on Bakura, as it was obviously fraying at his nerves.

"How do you plan on eating like that? Or will you feed each other with your free hands?" He sneered as soon as the fairly new couple arrived at the table.

"No," Mariku snorted, but didn't release Ryou's hand. He knew if he did he might punch his 'friend' in the face, and that would upset Ryou, and today was not a day he was willing to do that.

"We don't plan on eating here at all," Mariku added smugly, and Bakura's expression became dark.

"He's taking me out to lunch, but it's within walking distance, so we'll definitely be back in time for classes," Ryou explained enthusiastically. His beaming smile dimmed a bit when it fell on Bakura's angry expression, but he forced it back up to full wattage when he looked at Malik.

"Please keep onii-san company while we're gone?" He asked, widening his chocolate brown eyes pointedly. It took Malik two seconds to put together what was happening, and he quickly responded with an affirmative nod.

Finishing his mouthful of noodles, he managed, "No problem, we should probably start working on our culminating project, anyways. It's due really soon, but…" Seeing the blonde gaze wearily at Bakura, Ryou immediately opened his mouth to chastise him, but Bakura beat him to the chase.

"I didn't want to catch whatever lovesick disease you two are harvesting in that house. Not to mention I'm not going to waltz in uninvited, it's not like a practically live there," he drawled bitterly.

Ryou bit his lip, looking slightly ashamed at his nii-san's words. He _had_ been spending more and more time at the Ishtar house. He always felt embarrassed to invite Mariku over to their extremely humble apartment.

"He's right; it's mostly my fault for not setting anything up," Malik put in brightly, plastering on a fake smile for Ryou's sake. The world wasn't right when that boy looked sad.

"We'll work that out; meanwhile, you two should enjoy lunch! If you don't go now, it'll be too late," he encouraged, and Ryou smiled gratefully.

Mariku showed his own form of thanks by quickly dragging Ryou away without even a goodbye, though Ryou attempted to shout them over his shoulder.

Malik's fake smile disappeared immediately once they were gone, rubbing his tired face. All this romantic drama was, frankly, exhausting, and he was sick of it.

"You could have just been happy for them, you know," he accused his remaining companion irritably. Bakura cocked an eyebrow at him, expression suspicious.

"Why, so they can go off to suck face somewhere they don't think I can find them while you BS about actually wanting to work on a project?"

"For one thing, they're going to eat, and for another, that was not _BS,_ as you so kindly put it; we really should start," Malik retorted.

"You really buy the 'going to lunch' story? The only think Mariku's mouth will be doing is convincing Ryou to undress so he can" –

"Okay, stop right there! I don't need the details, thanks," Malik cut him off disgustedly, no longer feeling any need to finish his noodles.

"If you think there are details, you obviously don't think their little adventure is purely innocent," Bakura pointed out.

"I think they're both old enough to do what they want. Anyways, we should talk some more about the project," he stressed abruptly, not wanting to admit that he was absolutely certain that Ryou and Mariku weren't going much of anywhere, much less to a restaurant.

"There's nothing to talk about," Bakura said flatly, "Like I said, I'm not going to break into your house again, it's easy and boring." Malik flinched, though he tried to convince himself that Bakura's smirk wasn't actually implying a silent '_just like you'_ on the end of his sentence.

He almost asked about going to the Touzoku house, but quickly changed his mind. Ryou never invited Mariku over if he could avoid it, and obviously the two boys weren't particularly well off.

He should avoid treading on Bakura's pride as much as possible.

"Well…well, you don't have to break in you know. You could knock like a normal person," Malik sputtered, trying to keep the conversation in line and away from their siblings.

"That's not the way a thief does things; we just take what we want," Bakura said dismissively, waving his hand, though there was a seductive curl to his tone that Malik had found himself missing over the past month.

"We've had similar conversations," Malik replied, leaning forward on the table with narrowed eyes.

"And it ended badly for both of us," Bakura insisted with pride, though he had ultimately been trumped, and they both knew it.

"Well, I was thinking more along the lines that I've shown myself to be a thief as well…should I just steal you and force you over to my place?" He questioned airily, heart pounding painfully in his chest.

These stressful conversations were addictive despite the way they usually ended poorly.

"Are you saying that you want me?" Bakura asked in a purposefully dark tone, also leaning closer across the table. Malik abruptly leaned back, smirking victoriously, as he threw Bakura off balance once again.

"No," he explained shortly, "I simply want you there so you can get your jacket out of my closet, and keep us from failing this project. I actually have to do well in this course." Bakura snorted depreciatively, also leaning back to cover up any true feelings he'd had towards the exchange.

If he had to be honest, and he certainly didn't have to be, he would have grabbed the other boy shaken him until things went back to normal. It was like they had all been in a state of limbo since that particular…confrontation in the change room a month ago.

Mariku and Ryou were off in their sickening love bubble, and Bakura found himself striving to fill the yawning dread within him by being as much of a nuisance their relationship as possible.

He knew it wasn't fair, considering they received enough flack just for being openly gay, but the other choice was to sit and fidget under his own screaming emotions that couldn't stop seeing poor, innocent Amane every time he saw Ryou's dazed, love-struck face.

Malik, on the other side of the table, was confused as the brief silence stretched into several seconds, and then a minute. It seemed apparent that Bakura wasn't going to proffer a witty comeback. In fact…he had just sat back, and appeared to be pondering some dark, internal thought.

"Hello…?" Malik finally asked, leaning forward once more to wave a hand in front of Bakura's brooding expression. Mahogany eyes flashed upwards, followed by a set of snapping teeth. Malik launched himself backwards, nearly toppling his own chair in the process.

"The fuck? Did you just try to bite me?" Malik exclaimed in disbelief, hand cradled to his racing heart, as though to protect it.

"It was a love bite," Bakura replied innocently, his face doing an eerie rendition of Ryou's puppy dog look.

"If your idea of a love bite is taking off a finger or two, than yes, yes it was," Malik shot back with a disdainful sniff, as he carefully checked his fingers for signs of damage, though Bakura's teeth had been at least an inch away from their 'target'.

"I wonder how much biting Mariku is doing right now…?" Bakura pondered out loud, curios about how Malik would react. He wasn't stupid; he had seen the look Ryou gave the blond before he went out for his innocent little date.

He was waiting to go bust them in whatever hook up spot they'd chosen, and he probably would have gone sooner, but he was admittedly fascinated by Malik's dogged attempts to play peacemaker. This could seriously be used to his advantage.

"My money would be on at least two hickeys by the time class starts up again," Bakura continued slyly, and Malik couldn't help smirking slightly.

It was true; every time the two snuck out together, Ryou ended up with more love bites on his telltale white skin, and he was terrible at hiding them from his nii-san.

"He'll probably try to hide them with his collar again, as though you won't notice how ridiculous it is for him to suddenly start popping it up," Malik snickered, and Bakura's smirk widened. It was then that Malik realized the trap he'd walked right into.

"Not that he'll be doing that today! Mariku wouldn't sink so low as to seduce him in a restaurant," Malik quickly amended, tempted to palm his own face.

How stupid could he get? This was just the excuse Bakura needed to go looking for the two and make a big scene.

"Kid, either you've never been in a relationship before, or you're just incredibly naïve. Personally, I think you're just as sick of being around those two as I am and you're taking this opportunity to buddy back up to me," Bakura said bluntly, and his response brought the Egyptian up short.

Was that what Bakura thought he was doing?

No, Bakura just wanted him to respond negatively, giving him the proof he needed to accuse Malik of covering up for his nii-san and Ryou. But it really wasn't a bad idea, given the awkward strain their friendship had been under for the last couple weeks.

"That could be true. They're practically attached at the hips and lips all the time now, and you may have a nasty biting habit, but you're better to talk to than them," Malik replied casually, draping one arm over the back of his chair. His sharp violet eyes indicated that the ball was now in Bakura's court.

Surprised by his answer though he was, Bakura knew it was a distinct possibility that Malik would respond that way. Verbal tennis was always his best sport, after all, and Bakura would be hard put not to say it reawakened some intense emotions he'd been burying for the last few weeks.

As though nothing had happened on that day a month ago, the passionate attraction he held for the younger boy was resurrected in a heart beat.

Malik probably knew exactly what Bakura had been trying to get to him to say, and so responded in the opposite way –though, Bakura found it suddenly more appealing than the answer he had originally been trying to get.

Without missing a beat, he replied, "So, I take it you haven't been in a relationship before."

"How do you figure that?" Malik asked with aloof, but secretly genuine curiosity. He, himself, wouldn't claim to have been in a 'real' relationship –not the type with love confessions and flowers, anyways.

All of his attempts to move on from his past were, at best, awkward attempts on his part to get past his manipulative attitude towards other, which had told was an inappropriate way to treat someone you cared about, and at worst…well, the worst was that that always ended up failing.

The other person started to trust him with more than they should, or he started to trust them and immediately balked away from the secure feeling.

With Bakura, it wasn't like that.

There was no pretence of not attempting to manipulate each other. There was no security from day to day, only in peculiar moments that they'd shared. It was exhilarating. It made Malik want more, and when he lost those interactions…it made him miss their odd relationship.

"Well, I know you're not naïve," Bakura began lazily, in an almost complimenting way, "but, obviously you haven't seriously been with anyone else, or you'd know my 'biting habit' was hardly a habit you should dislike."

All feelings of romantic longing for these moments were shot, and Malik scowled at him. Same old Bakura. Why did he miss this antagonism of his character?

"Believe it or not, not everyone finds it _arousing _to be chewed on like some sort of raw steak," he snapped, shuddering at the mere mental image of Bakura preying on the tender flesh of his neck.

"Oh, but my luscious, exotic treat," Bakura drawled in a voice so heavily seductive it was clearly mocking, "you'd taste much better than any other steak around here, even if it was raw, just the way I like it."

Malik almost gagged, automatically leaning farther away from his upperclassman in disgust, but not for the reason Bakura initially suspected.

"You like your steaks…_raw?_" Malik whispered in a mix of awe and terror at the mere notion.

"Well, maybe cooked for a minute the microwave, but who really has the patience to wait longer than that when you can smell the kill?" Bakura teased, relishing the conflicted look on Malik's innocent face.

"I…I wasn't even allowed to eat meat until I came to Japan. It was against everything I knew back in Egypt, and when I got here, I was afraid of the Japanese diseases that Mariku told me was in all the meat. I never ate any meat until I learned to cook for myself," Malik admitted, and Bakura arched an eyebrow at him.

"Well that was a shitty thing for your onii-san to do. Depriving someone of meat is a cardinal sin," Bakura said seriously, wondering if it would bother Malik, but the boy just rolled his eyes carelessly.

"Onii-san was kind of a shit sometimes, and I know it better than anyone. Just imagine what havoc you could wreck if you had his wicked tongue to convince anyone of anything," Malik responded in bleak horror of the mere idea.

The whole world would be at war within itself for things that Bakura had whispered into their heads.

"Speak of being a shit and having a wicked tongue…" Bakura commented, before hopping up from his seat and glancing at the clock on the wall.

"O-oi, where do you think your going?" Malik demanded, jumping up after him. It was too late, Bakura had obviously made up his mind, as he stalked towards the door that Mariku and Ryou had exited a total of perhaps fifteen minutes ago.

"Well, what did they expect, if Ryou left you to guard me that I'd get distracted and fuck you senseless?" Bakura scoffed, still striding purposefully towards the double doors at the back of the cafeteria.

"If you're calling me a slut…" Malik growled warningly, and Bakura gave another sound of disbelief.

"Not everything is about you, kid. If anything, blame Mariku or Ryou's twisted logic, whichever's it was."

Malik made a face at this, but couldn't really deny that it had been a jerk move to leave Malik to babysit someone he obviously hadn't been getting along with recently.

Of course, now he had to worry about the thought they one or both of them _had_ been thinking he might have been…_distracting_ Bakura in a different sort of way than just talking to him about the project.

"Besides," Bakura continued airily, as he stepped outside, "if I was going to fuck you, I would have done it by now, which means they've had plenty of time to do as much screwing around as they want."

Before Malik could realize that he might forever regret the words he uttered next, they had popped out of his shocked lips.

"You really think you could do me that quickly?" Bakura actually stopped in his steps so that he could turn to raise a cockily surprised eyebrow at Malik's curios expression.

"My record is seven minutes. I can't see how anything less than that would be particularly fun, but I'm always game to try…" Bakura suggested with a dirty smirk, and Malik immediately stumbled backwards out of biting and touching reach.

"No, thank you," he responded in disgust, shuddering to himself.

He could hardly believe he'd lowered himself to asking such a question…it would probably haunt him for days now. Not to mention the thought of Bakura…doing that…with someone, or someone-_s _enough times to worry about setting a record.

Not that Malik was self conscious of his minimal experience but…well; all a man had was his reputation, right?

"Who's to say they're even screwing around?" Malik doggedly questioned, jogging to catch up to Bakura who had taken his contemplative silence as an opportunity to get ahead.

"I say so," he replied evenly, "and don't question me, because now I have proof."

"What, did they leave you a message written in the clouds, just to spite you?" Malik asked with a sneer, finally falling in place beside the older boy, who had pulled to a stop.

"No," Bakura said calmly, "because I can see them." Malik felt his heart drop to his shoes.

They hadn't really…they weren't so stupid to have…raising unwilling eyes, his worst fears were confirmed, as he, too, caught sight of the rather steamy looking scene unfolding before his very gaze.

A mere hundred meters away was Mariku's car, still parked where he'd left it in the back lot this morning. It was in the corner spot, covered by an overhanging grove of straggly looking trees, but there wasn't nearly enough cover to hide the clear imagine of him pinning Ryou to the passenger side door with a passionate-looking lip lock.

To be fair, even as they watched, Ryou's hands stoked along his torso, fingers clenching and unclenching in the fabric. Oh, Ra, where were Mariku's hands? What if he was…?

Malik gulped, and only forced his feet to move slowly forward when he realized Bakura had made at least fifty yards progress already.

Inside the car, all that could be heard was the rustle of fabric, and Ryou's panting gasps. Mariku found it unendingly amusing that the boy became so flustered even without any overly sexual touching.

He respected Ryou's wishes to keep their physical relationship as appropriate as possible at school, but it was difficult when he kept making those wanton noises, and unintentionally bucking his hips desirously against Mariku's own.

Every so often, he'd let out a murmured complaint, or remind him that they really shouldn't be doing this where anyone could see them and get the 'wrong idea', but it hadn't taken Mariku very long to realize that the more he protested, the more his delicate lover wanted it.

And right now, considering the frequency of his protests, he _really_ wanted it.

The thought wasn't doing much to keep Mariku's head straight, unfortunately.

Suddenly, the passionately, burning sexual moment was interrupted but a peculiar noise. At first, Mariku tried to ignore it as his imagination. It wouldn't have been the first time he heard something that wasn't there.

After awhile though, he was forced to break off the make out session to discover the source, but not without great annoyance.

Immediately, the first thing he saw was a pale hand, the source of the tapping outside the window he had Ryou pressed up against, and the second was the image of his otouto, looking sheepish and embarrassed several feet away from the car.

That could only mean one thing. They'd been discovered already.

Well…shit.

Ryou, realizing that Mariku wasn't going to return to their previous activities, craned his neck, attempting to look less flustered, as he searched for the source of the intrusive noise.

All flush disappeared from his cheeks at once when he saw what was unmistakeably his brother's hand, and then came rushing back instantly. There was no way he hadn't seen what they were doing.

While there hadn't been any particularly taboo caressing involved, it certainly had been quite…suggestive. And humiliating. And nothing anyone would ever want a family member to walk in on, much less _Bakura._

Flipping over, he scrambled to unlock the door before managing to tumble out in a graceless mess. Mariku calmly crawled out after him and straightened out Ryou's pathetically hunched form.

He didn't understand why he was so upset over this, to be honest. Sure, it was a little disconcerting, he supposed, but of all the things they had seen in their lives, was two boys having a heated make out session really so disturbing?

"I see you finally came up for air," Bakura commented dryly, a pair of mirrored aviators blocking his eyes.

If possible, Ryou flushed darker in shame. The twin mirrors merely reflected back his face on himself, and he knew Bakura was hiding his eyes for a reason that had nothing to do with the bright sunlight.

While his voice was calm, he was certain there was rage brewing beneath the façade.

"He occasionally forgets to breath, but his endurance is definitely improving," Mariku replied wittily, obviously knowing denial wasn't an option at this point.

"Great, you two can spend all your classes out here having really kinky, drawn out car-sex," Bakura mocked with a disgusted scowl.

Ryou gave an offended gasp, before muffling it with a slender hand. The image of himself being so coy was reflected straight back at him, and he was further offended by his own cowardice.

What had he and Mariku been doing that was so wrong anyways? They were just kissing, which is what boyfriends did. It wasn't like he'd never seen Bakura doing far more with far less, anyways.

"I never skip class," Ryou finally blurted, cringing at his attempt to stand up for himself. Not skipping class didn't exactly make him sound tough. Still, the outburst caught Bakura's attention, and ended his mute staring match with Mariku.

"Well, you might as well start some time, and since you've clearly found something more productive to do with your 'free' time" –

"Who cares if it's not productive, nii-san?" Ryou cried, this time succeeding in getting all three pairs of eyes on him.

"I…I'm finally enjoying myself. I'm enjoying myself _a lot_ being with Mariku, and he treats me well, and listens to what I want. He didn't do anything I didn't like, and it's not like there was anything more important that I should have been doing, and…and…and I'm not imouto-chan, okay? I'm not Amane, and I'm not nine years old anymore. I know better, and I know when I love someone that I can trust…okay?" He wound up a little lamely, already beginning to regret his bold speech.

On Bakura's part, he made no comeback this time. Or, perhaps he did in the loudest way he could: by using no sarcasm, nor witty comment. His mouth made a thin slash across his cold, pale face. It could have been carved in stone for all the emotion it showed.

Just when Ryou was really becoming concerned, and perhaps Mariku was as well, for his lover's health if nothing else by the way he pulled him protectively closer to his side, Bakura finally decided to 'speak'.

"Okay," was the simple response.

It was impossible to tell what he was really think or feeling behind those mirrored glasses, but Malik could sense from the thick tension in the air and the apprehension all around him that the confrontation wasn't over yet.

That was far too understanding, with not enough bite to be the end of it. Bakura would never walk away from this situation without the last word.

Sighing in an almost resigned manner, Bakura reached into waist band and pulled from the hidden sheath his infamously beautiful and deadly knife.

"Here," he said, offering the blade up to Ryou first, "take it."

"What –no. I don't even get into fist fights, why…why would you give me your knife?" His otouto stammered in confusion, the concern and panic spreading rapidly on his already crinkled face.

Bakura answered no questions, simply tossed it up and let it land blade down in his right hand which clenched reflexively. Malik flinched at the sight of his pale hand wrapped around the jagged edge of the blade with no concern for any pain the Thief King might be experiencing.

"Partner?" Bakura offered mockingly, the knife handle extended towards his partner in crime. Mariku was by no means squeamish, but even he looked moderately disturbed by what was either a pre-planned last stand, or a mental breakdown.

"I can't take your best knife, I already have your B blade," Mariku said in a low uncertain voice, producing the folded kissing crane blade.

Malik shivered, remembering what was inscribed on it: _Don't miss._

That seemed like a cruel joke now. The only thing that could make this worse was…well, it was, naturally, exactly what happened next.

Turning his back on his otouto and partner in crime, he faced Malik, the parts of his face exposed still completely void of expression.

"And you? I won't be needing it anymore. Will you take it off my hands?" He used no ridiculous title, or any jokes at anyone's expense. Malik knew he was serious. This was a serious thing, and Bakura had saved him till last for a reason.

It was obvious neither Mariku nor Ryou were going to take the knife, especially not with it still biting into the skin of the fierce albino's palm. It was Malik's turn to decide now. With whom did he stand?

It was a surprisingly simple answer, even to Malik. He thought he'd struggle to decide between his friends and…whatever Bakura was, but it wasn't. One look at that deceivingly calm face told Malik who needed him more right now.

Traditionally, he knew to side with the strongest player, but this case was an exception. After all, he dealt with it significantly better than Bakura, but he knew about worrying for his nii-san and friend while also feeling forgotten.

Stepping forward with no hesitation, he wrapped a hand delicately around the knife handle. He'd never held one with intention to harm, but it couldn't be hard just to hold on to.

"Only a fool would turn down the last gift from the Thief King," Malik replied solemnly, and a smirk curled Bakura's mouth for just a fleeting moment before he released the sharp metal, now slick with his blood.

Turning back to the other two, particularly Ryou, who looked like he was about to be sick, he said calmly, "You heard him. If this is what you want, than I'll step down, otouto. If you don't need me, than the Thief King is done. You killed him."

The words were melodramatic, but they had the desired effect. Mariku gave a small growl, even as Bakura turned away seemingly with the full intent to walk away now that he'd said his piece.

"Oi, Touzoku. That's not fair. Don't treat him like shit just cause he doesn't want your protection anymore," he growled at Bakura's back, infuriated by the way he was treating Ryou just for sticking up for himself.

"Like shit? I'm not treating him badly; I'm just giving him what he wants. He's right; after all, he's not imouto-chan. He's old enough to take care of himself, and if he decides he still wants a protector, than he has you. I gave you that blade for a reason, and I still mean it: Don't miss, because this time it's completely on your conscience if you do," Bakura said in a darkly serious voice, and then promptly turned back around to continue back on his way.

Malik suddenly found himself standing in a scary silence that consisted of Ryou's concerned face, Mariku's strangely vacant expression, and himself holding the blood stained knife.

Quickly, realizing how it might look should there be an onlookers, he wiped it on the inside of his jacket, making a mental note to wash it later. Balancing it with the hilt down in his sock and blade away from his leg, he figured that he'd be safe enough so long as he didn't fall on it between now and arriving home.

Ryou's eyes followed him, looking desperate for someone to console him. He found it hard to believe that Bakura wasn't angry about this, but at the same time…it was freeing to know he wouldn't be hovering around the corner worrying about him.

But then again, it was nice to know there was always someone worrying about him. But not when it interfered in his personal life, but…but…there were too many ups and downs in this situation. In the end, he didn't really know how to deal with the idea of Bakura not being there for him.

Feeling the eyes of both boys on him now, Malik straightened up from carefully arranging the blade, looking at them both with hooded eyes.

Mariku seemed okay for now, and if he wasn't…well, if Ryou truly wanted to be with him, than he should learn to deal with his mental instability.

It was funny, Bakura had handed him that knife to make his own point, but it gave Malik a knew understanding as well. He'd spent a lot of time cleaning up after Mariku. Maybe he should give that job to someone else now, and start living his life for himself.

"He needs me more," was what he finally settled on saying, and Ryou nodded slowly, understanding that Malik was referring to Bakura, who had disappeared behind the school.

"Go on than," Mariku said darkly, and Malik nodded, staring at his nii-san for a long moment before turning and following the same path Bakura had taken a few moments ago.

After rounding the corner, Malik began to worry that with all the dramatic exits today he wouldn't be able to locate the other Touzoku twin. The problem was solved by the sound of crunching material, and a tense sounding curse.

Malik immediately made a beeline for the inlet that the bricks of the school made a few yards up. The generator was humming away, surrounded by a wicked looking chain link fence.

At first it seemed impassable, but Malik finally saw the misalignment in one row of the links, and a sharp tug revealed that a section big enough that he could pass through by crouching could be swung upwards.

Entering the small inlet, presumably only existent for someone checking on the generator, he took a cursory glance around at his surroundings. The typical graffiti of couples names who had probably done a lot in the private area, some gang tags, and wrappers, but nothing else out of the ordinary.

Unless you considered a teenaged albino grinding his mirror aviators into oblivion beneath his shoe out of the ordinary.

Malik was simply relieved to discover the crunching sound he heard wasn't the former Thief King's fist.

Not even glancing up at the sound of the rustling chain links, Bakura continued to glare at his shattered glasses, as he said sourly, "I needed a distraction."

"You know, you could have just asked," Malik said dryly, stepping closer with his heart in his throat. This got the other teen's attention, glancing up with a curios expression on his now bare face.

Malik seemed to glide closer, violet eyes piercing and arousing. One hand sunk into that white tangled mess, and Bakura wondered…but Malik simply yanked him upwards, settling his luscious lips against that pale column of his neck.

Kissing and nipping at the skin experimentally, Bakura was lulled into a half aware state of hazy lusting. Thoughts of their previous discussion in which Malik had abhorred the idea of biting anything, even barely cooked meat, much less another male, floated through his minds eye.

Damn him for making such a beautiful distraction.

Malik tried not to make it obvious when his breath hitched slightly, feeling Bakura's seductive hands pull Malik's hips up against his own, despite their small height difference.

"I thought you said you weren't gay," Bakura asked, knowing he couldn't allow Malik's ministrations to go forever, no matter how much he liked the feeling. It made him feel weak.

"You, yourself, said you don't have to be gay to kiss another guy," Malik quoted. Bakura frowned, haze abruptly cleared.

He remembered saying that. It was a stupid thing to say, albeit something he believed and still did believe.

He just wished Malik didn't.

Shoving the other teen away as quickly as he'd pulled him closer, Bakura gave him a dark look.

"What the hell? I thought you _wanted_ me to distract you," Malik complained, hurt by his abrupt rejection. He had left no love bites on the other boy, he wasn't quite so bold, but it hadn't been nearly so bad as he'd imagined it might be.

It was almost…nice. And it must not have felt that bad, because Bakura didn't push him away immediately.

"Well, it wasn't working," Bakura grumbled, wiping a hand down his neck absentmindedly. God, that had felt so good. Him and his big fucking mouth, he could have gone on enjoying that all day.

Turning away again in case he voiced any of these thoughts aloud, he quickly made for the fence once again, shoving it upward brusquely and squeezing out through the gap.

Malik hesitated slightly, realizing his nervous aversion might have hurt Bakura in the same way Bakura rejecting him had. Making up his mind, he hurried out through the fence, going after his wayward friend.

Coming up beside him, he reached out a hand to grab onto Bakura's, and the action took both of them by surprise. Malik couldn't remember the last time he'd walked around holding someone's hand like a…like a _lover _or something.

"What do you think your doing? Babying me? I don't need my hand held," Bakura sneered half heartedly, also recognizing that holding hands somehow had heavier implications than a couple kisses in the heat of the moment.

Malik gave him a strange look, but assented to pull his hand away. As soon as he felt it slipping away though, Bakura grasped the tanned boy's hand tighter in his own, mumbling a transparent excuse.

Malik felt a thrill go through his insides, still walking aimlessly with his friend, hands now loosely locked together.

There was something symbolic and horrifyingly ironic about the similarities of their situation combined with the blood from Bakura's self-inflicted wound smearing against Malik's tanned hand.

After a couple seconds of silence, Bakura suddenly commented, "What's the date?"

Malik blinked, not having expected such a mundane question, and actually having to actually think a couple seconds before saying, "the fourteenth. I guess that makes it American Valentine's Day, right?"

"Huh," Bakura simply grunted in confirmation, "its Valentine's Day and I don't have a date. Well, isn't that fucking ironic?"

Malik glanced over at him slowly, a suggestively nervous expression on his face. Bakura's eyes barely slid a fraction of an inch over to meet the others', but the return of his smirk suggested he had fully understood the glance.

Looking straight forward, he wiggled his fingers around Malik's contemplatively, before saying casually, "It should be fine, as long as Mariku never finds out…"

**A/N: BAM! I bet you all are like, OMR, what just happened? Well…basically, Ryou finally learned to stand up for himself and Bakura realized that his Thief King persona wasn't much use for his otouto (baby brother) anymore. Major ouch. But! At least, Malik and 'Kura appear to be being pushed together thanks to the deathshipping…makes my job as a writer a heck of a lot easier, let me tell you! Oh man…the symbolism in this chapter…the angst…thank goodness that it's all uphill from here! ;D**


	31. Kissing and Cooking and Cubes, Oh My!

**A/N: Huzzah! New chapter, VERY SOON after the last one! ;D Also, I'd like to clear up a couple things that many, many, MANY reviewers were at me about: Not to be harsh, but this is a thiefshipping story. You might not have noticed when you checked the summary, but it clearly says that they ARE the main couple. While I find it extremely flattering that so many of you love my deathshipping, and respect that you're really into or whatever at the moment, it's still gonna stay a thiefshipping story. I love Mariku and Ryou to death, but they're gonna have to take a backseat sometimes! That being said, just to prove once and for all that I love you all and read each every one of your (300!) reviews, I gave you a 300+ reviews present: I rewrote this ENTIRE CHAPTER (that's why it's later than usual) so that it wasn't a simple description of what happened –it's written from the deathshipping POV. Happy? I hope so, I worked hard on it! ;D**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

Bakura pulled his trench coat closer around his body and resolved to pound even harder on the door in front of him. Was that a crack forming in the wood? Well, it was hardly his fault that Egyptian's were, apparently, both lazy and oblivious.

"Ishtar!" He snarled irritably, beginning to lose his patience. "It's fucking cold out here, so hurry up and open the fucking" –

"Who the fuck is trying to break down the door?" A deep voice demanded, wrenching it open. Bakura's fist froze an inch from Mariku's rock hard chest, meeting his dark mauve gaze with stubborn irritation.

"Oh, it's you," Mariku said simply, antagonistic expression disappearing behind an innocent blink. Not bothering to close the door, he simply turned away and bellowed at what, scarily, probably wasn't even the top of his lung, "Oi! Otouto! Get your ass down here!" Then proceeded to stomp off, mumbling something about lechers.

Bakura cocked an eyebrow at his retreating form, but decided it was best not to ask. It would be a lie to say things hadn't been somewhat strained since his argument with Ryou, but Ryou was never one who hesitated to forgive, and Mariku was dragged reluctantly along behind him.

What that had to do with Mariku thinking of him as a lecher, Bakura hadn't the slightest.

Had the Ishtar siblings gotten into a fight? Maybe, he should have considered calling before he showed up unannounced to get this damn project thing over with…no, that would have been weird.

Then again, this was 'Thief King' attitude…to be honest; Bakura didn't really know how to separate himself from his 'alter ego'.

For example, he no longer had to steal, but he sometimes had the urge to when he walked past a shiny exhibit…and he could simply pay at restaurants instead of sneaking off, but he missed the thrill of his mischievous activities…and, worst of all, now he had to be conscious of his 'spendings'.

God, how did Ryou deal with all these constraints of a straight and narrow lifestyle?

If the most badass thing Bakura sans-Thief King could do was show up at a friends' house unannounced, he'd become a crazy old cat person.

With this in mind, he shucked off his shoes and coat, leaving both piled by the front door. Stalking into the house like he owned it, he glared around the living room, listening for any signs of the Ishtar he had come looking for.

Stupid kid had been insisting they start working on that damn project for weeks now, yet made no attempt to actually solidify any plans. So, naturally, Bakura decided to take things into his own hands.

Two voices, both speaking in a foreign tongue, murmured from the kitchenette area, and Bakura assumed it was the two brothers.

"Alright, alright, I'm bloody going," one finally said in English, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Who did you say it was a- holy shit, why the fuck are you here?" Malik screeched, coming to a dead halt mere steps from the kitchenette area.

"Nice to see you, too," Bakura replied dryly, though his greedy eyes revealed just how nice he thought it was.

Obviously, making it a surprise visit was a very good idea, because he'd manage to catch Malik in his 'regular garb' –and by that, he meant leather pants sans the shirt. Damn, the kid managed to make those skin tight, black pants look very inviting to a certain sharp-eyed ex-thief.

What could say? Some habits were hard to lose…

"Nii-san! You could have warned me," Malik hissed, face turning an unnatural shade of red behind his full body tan.

"What? I'm just here to work on the project," Bakura said innocently, and Malik shot him a violent glare. "At least, that was the plan, but with an outfit like that, how can I resist getting a little distracted?" Bakura continued to tease, moving in on his helpless prey.

"Just keep it quiet, okay? My head is killing me," Mariku ordered, not even attempting to stop the, no doubt, dirty thoughts coursing through the ex-thief's head.

Distracted from his lewd train of thought, Bakura watched the elder Ishtar stomp away in the direction of his room down the hall from the living room and entrance.

"Who pissed in his cereal this morning?" He questioned sarcastically, but his sharp eyes didn't miss the pained expression on Malik's face, before it was covered with a haughty mask.

"No one, maybe he just wasn't particularly happy to have his house intruded upon," Malik snapped, obviously referring mostly to himself, as the one being intruded on.

"Ryou comes here without being invited all the time; I think he can deal with one more Touzoku," Bakura commented, eyeing Malik with wolfish interest once more, his brain already moving on from whatever the issue with Mariku was.

The much more interesting issue was how to get Malik out of those tight pants that were having a similar effect on Bakura's own pants. Alas, that probably wasn't going to happen, but, if there's no hope, at least one can enjoy a wishful imagination, right?

"You're a lot harder to handle than Ryou," Malik said as though that were a bad thing, but Bakura's pronounced smirk only said that he considered it more of a compliment.

Ah, there was that feeling. That feeling of being _alive_ and having a definitive course of action once more…he had missed that feeling, and Malik seemed to be the catalyst for it these days.

"If you think I'm hard to handle, you really shouldn't tempt me," Bakura murmured in a sultry tone, unable to resist sliding a little closer to his exotic crush.

Malik gave him a scowl, but didn't actually turn away until the albino upperclassman actually raised a hand to teasingly run his nails over the sensitive skin of his chest.

"Pervert," Malik accused, but it was half hearted. Bakura saw that shiver when his nails grazed his skin just before Malik retreated, and it was certainly not one of disgust.

"Well, what do you suggest I do? I'm a guest in your house, and you're not doing much to entertain me," Bakura complained, now examining his nails, and glancing up from under lustful lashes to tell Malik that the ball was once again in his court.

"Feh, guest my ass," Malik began with a scoff, and Bakura's lustful expression deepened, stepping closer one more.

One pale hand snaked around, as he reached out to sneakily to pinch the aforementioned ass with the line, "I'd be happy to introduce my 'guest' to your" –

"Project," Malik blurted, turning ten shades of pink, and wincing at the same time. "You're here to work on the project so let's go to my room…to do the project not –not anything else, that is, just the school project."

Bakura cocked an eyebrow, as an extremely flustered Malik turned to make a break for the stairs, tripping all over his own words. It was cute, but a little out of character. Normally, he had a much more cutting response to Bakura's teasing advances.

And what was the wince? Disgust? No, Bakura knew a look of pain when he saw one.

Immediately, Bakura's irrational jealousy lit up. If some other guy had gotten to his Egyptian first…

His fears were assuaged when his jealously, sharp eyes picked up another clue to the puzzle his visit to the Ishtar house was turning in to. A slight, but noticeable, limp to the other boy's step.

A sore ass and a sore foot? That didn't sound like sex, or, not the kind Bakura had experienced, and he had plentiful experience, rest assured.

"Well? Are you coming?" Malik demanded, turning around on the stairs to glare at his intruding 'guest'.

Bakura's eyes returned to his face, trying to ignore the way those leather pants stretched across Malik's gorgeous ass…who was he kidding, there wasn't a soul alive who could ignore such a glorious view.

"Of course," was his innocent response, and Malik's glare darkened, before turning back and hustling up the stairs as fast as he could.

It was obvious he was trying to hide his limp, but he didn't walk fast enough for Bakura to miss the dark stain on the bottom of one of his grey socks.

What in the world was going on in this mad house?

The strange coincidences were becoming too many and too suspicious for Bakura to ignore; he was going to get to the bottom of this before their little 'study date' was over.

Finding himself in the door of Malik's room, he felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him. This was where they had their first kiss…a combination of need for comfort and drugs. Bakura laughed a little bitterly, and Malik gave him a strange look from his spot at the computer desk, but didn't ask.

Plunking himself down in the chair next to Malik's, they started in on the project. Malik had already done a considerable amount of the work on his own, likely having given up on any input from Bakura.

Surprisingly, though perhaps with Ryou around to nag him, it wasn't that surprising, Bakura did have an idea of the subject, at least, and it made it a little easier to work on.

To be honest, Bakura knew more than he was letting on, because as much as he faked disinterest, he didn't want the money spent on his continued education to go to complete waste since it was already spent against his will.

Still, it was hard to do more than half ass his current work when he had several clues to whatever drama was one again ailing the Ishtar house, and no good solution.

A limp, a sore ass, a grumpy Mariku, a touchy Malik (was that different than usual?), and what appeared to be a blood stained sock, not to mention the fact that Malik was attempting to hide it all.

Not well, Bakura might add, as the other boy squirmed around on his seat, while trying to keep his foot tucked under his leg to hide whatever was wrong with it. With all those things to keep track of and attempt to piece together the solution to…whatever it was, it was hardly Bakura's fault that he wasn't trying that hard to actually get work done.

That and Malik hadn't put a shirt on, yet…yah, that might have had something to do with his distraction as well.

Unable to take the pitiable attempt to cover up his discomfort any longer, Bakura finally commented dryly, without taking his eyes off the computer screen, "you're going to get an infection if you keep cloistering the wound like that."

Malik's shoulders went rigid, expression a cross of panic and surprise.

"What, you didn't think I would notice? Your attempts to hide it are about as bad as your attempts to focus with your medication," Bakura pointed out.

Rolling his eyes, Malik was smart enough to try and cover his tracks with a viable story –something he was much better at than hiding pain, Bakura thought.

"Fine, it was just a stupid accident, sorry I didn't feel the need to fill you in, _ka-san_. I tripped yesterday morning and slid down the stairs on my ass. Not only did I hit every bump and splinter possible on that damn death trap of a staircase, I also stubbed my toe," Malik whined, and it was almost convincing enough for Bakura to buy it –almost, but not quite.

Hearing him snicker to himself, Malik realized his cover was blown, and attempted to cover up his growing panic with a glare.

"What the hell do you think is so funny? You've never tripped before?"

"Oh, I have, and I'm sure you have to, but if you tripped yesterday, it wasn't on the stairs," Bakura replied aloofly.

"Why so cynical?" Malik asked with a groan, trepidation growing inside him. What could have given him away…?

Bakura calmly lifted a hand to point at the stain on Malik's sock, which Bakura's trained eyes easily recognized at blood from a close up viewpoint.

"Oh, fuck," Malik cursed, immediately pushing his abused foot away from his body.

"I wasn't kidding when I said it would get infected if you kept cloistering it with that smelly old thing," Bakura said, semi-seriously, though Malik took offense, even as he complied by peeling his socks away.

"I bet my socks smell better than your socks," he grumbled quietly, but was ignored, as Bakura preferred to whistle appreciatively at the numerous small but deep lacerations covering both of Malik's feet. The worst one was on the bottom of his left foot –obviously, that was where it had begun to bleed again.

"How the hell did you manage to slice your feet up so bad, kid?" Bakura demanded, curiosity now at its peak, as he recognized knife wounds.

"None of your business," Malik attempted, but knew it was no avail when it came to questioning by Bakura.

Throwing down his pencil, Bakura's hand shot out like a whip, and before Malik could stop him, he was holding a tanned foot in his hand, rotating it speculatively.

"Oi," Malik growled, "What the hell do you think you're –ow, the fuck are you doing?" He whined, yanking his foot back from Bakura's cruel grip. Sharp nails had poked at one of the deep lacerations, and, evidently, it hadn't felt very good.

"Haven't you ever heard of bandaids? Those could be infected already for all you know, and they're certainly not going to heal up very fast with just your socks to protect them," Bakura rebuked, barber slapping the back of his foolish crush's head.

Malik gave another disgruntled sound, now rubbing the back of his head with a glare at his 'friend', but allowed him to draw the foot back into his lap.

"I…I can't reach my feet," Malik finally admitted, cheeks going slightly pink in embarrassment. Bakura gave him an incredulous look, though, to be fair, Malik did have very long legs…

"You mean, you're not flexible?" Bakura asked in a mock despairing tone.

"No, I never thought it was a particular important skill," Malik replied warily, wondering where Bakura was going with this.

"Well, that's something we'll certainly have to work on," Bakura replied in a slightly sultry tone complete with wink, and Malik let out an exasperated noise.

Leave it to Bakura to think up something dirty just because Malik couldn't touch his toes.

"Regardless, you could have gotten Mariku to do it," Bakura continued rebuking, shoving the tanned feet away so that he could stand up from his seat.

"No, I couldn't have," Malik said quietly, not with shame, but something darker in his tone. It was a tone that caused even Bakura a little concern, because it wasn't anger, but…he wasn't sure what. Not good, though.

"I'm going to find some antibiotic cream and shit. You stay here. When I get back, you better be ready to explain what's going on, got it?" Bakura ordered, and whether Malik 'got it' or not, he didn't get a choice, because Bakura was already striding out of the room and on his way to the bathroom cupboard.

Malik stared after him with a mix of confusion and dread. On one hand, it was kind of nice to have someone taking care of him, even if it was Bakura, but on the other…well, now he'd have to explain, and he was far from looking forward to that.

Malik glanced up, surprised to see Bakura returning so soon.

"What? You think I haven't patched Mariku up enough times after a crime gone wrong? I know where the shit is in this house," Bakura explained casually, but a certain fondness marked his words when he referred to his days of crime with the elder Ishtar.

A flash of jealousy rose within Malik, one he was quick to squash. It was those sorts of feelings that had been confusing the poor boy lately. Jealousy? That was for girls, or people with crushes.

He knew what he was experiencing was likely a…small crush…but at times, it seemed to be verging on something more, and that concerned him. He was pretty sure he had had to be bi or gay to have a 'serious' crush on another boy.

Gesturing for Malik to get up, Bakura switched places with him, so that he was sitting in the bigger computer chair, and Malik was in the short hard back chair. It allowed his leg to be on an angle up into Bakura's lap –a really sexy, leather clad angle; Bakura's…brain reminded him.

Yup, that was definitely his brain's thinking.

"So? I've got a lot of cuts to cover before we go back to work, so spill," Bakura commanded simply, going to work with his rubbing alcohol-soaked cotton ball and chop sticks.

Malik winced at the pain, but knew it was necessary, and was secretly grateful for Bakura's concern. It might be nice to get this off his chest a bit.

"Well, you know Ryou's been spending a lot of time at our place –ow, don't take your fucking bitterness out on me," Malik snapped, foot jerking back automatically, as Bakura pressed a little too hard into one of his cuts at the mention of Ryou.

Bakura's already pale lips turned white as they pressed into a thin line, but he refrained from saying anything. He did go a little gentler, though. Taking a deep breath, Malik got ready to tell the rest of the story.

"I thought about you telling Ryou that he had to learn to take care of himself now, and I figured it was time for Mariku to do the same; Ra-knows he's older than me, even if no one else would be able to tell, it shouldn't be my job to clean up after him. Anyways, Ryou decided to try to teach him to cook last week…"

***Flashback***

"Mariku!" Ryou said in exasperation, pulling out of Mariku's enthusiastic embrace.

"What? You don't like kissing me?" Mariku asked in a mock-hurt tone, and Ryou hesitated just long enough for Mariku to close the distance between them again with another greedy kiss. He just never felt like he could get enough of his fluffy little lover.

"Mariku…" Ryou's voice broke through the pleasant haze kissing always put over his mind, and annoyance flickered inside his brain, but he pulled back, all the same.

_You know he wants you. When he says 'no' he's really saying 'take me'._ Mariku shivered slightly, shaking his head a little, as though that would make the sound go away. Even the screwed up parts of his brain were into Ryou, apparently.

Ryou tried not to let the concern surface on his face when he saw Mariku shaking his head again, out of the corner of his eye.

He'd been doing that a lot lately.

At first, Ryou thought maybe he was getting headaches, or it was a habit he simply hadn't picked up on before they started dating, but there was always a certain strain to Mariku's expression when he did it. Like there was an annoying buzz in his ear, and shaking his head would get rid of it.

Ryou knew he really should ask, but…well, they'd never really had a conversation about that sort of thing. They'd talked about Ryou's own experience with PTSD and his past, and Mariku was getting very good at finding solutions to those sorts of situations, but never had Mariku's own problems come up.

Ryou did research on his own, but it was difficult when the whole matter was so hush-hush. From what little snippets he'd heard, it seemed likely that Mariku suffered from schizophrenia, but he didn't know if it was paranoid, or if he even had auditory hallucinations.

Other than that, he knew it ran in the family, had been far worse in the past, and, according to his research, could relapse at any time, but would probably come on gradually.

Then again, it was just a little shake of the head, and, unless sexual aggression counted, Mariku wasn't exhibiting any flashes of aggression or depression around him.

The mere thought of Mariku's sexual advances made Ryou feel flushed. Sometimes, it was hard to discourage his enthusiastic lover from taking things so fast, especially for a virgin like Ryou, but not because Mariku didn't listen to him.

No, if anything, the difficulty was with Ryou. It was just so _hard_ to remember that good relationships weren't based on getting it on every time they kissed.

"You know, it'd be easier to take advantage of you if you weren't so damn adorable," Mariku teased in a low voice, pinching Ryou's noticeably pink cheeks.

This, of course, only caused Ryou to blush harder, and stammer all over his humble, "I'm not that cute".

It wasn't true; of course, no girl or boy could look as cute as Ryou in a frilly second hand store apron and a bandana to hold his hair back form his face.

Not to mention he was covered from head to toe in splashes of flour and egg and goodness knows what else, considering the word 'cook' was synonymous with 'food fight' in Mariku's dictionary.

When Ryou had discovered via Malik that the elder Ishtar was cooking illiterate, he took it on himself to teach him some basics, but that was easier said than done.

_Much_ easier.

Not only would Mariku rather kiss than cook, he'd also rather kiss than watch the timer for when the cookies were done –which meant the end result was little piles of charcoaled cookie dough. Though, Ryou didn't have much of an excuse, he'd been eager enough to comply.

The mess was starting to get to him though, and knew they needed to focus on something other than each other.

"Feh, I beg to differ. I would wrap you up and take you home with me any day if I'd found you on the street somewhere," Mariku proclaimed, a sly glint appearing in his mauve eyes.

"Actually, I probably would have wanted to unwrap you first," he added, one hand attempting to dip inside his small lover's waist band sensually.

Ryou was quick to notice where his hand was headed, because Mariku's hand was out of his pants and as far away from the inside of his boxers as he could get it within a second.

"M-Mariku, not…not in the kitchen! O-or not anywhere, I mean! Malik is home, a-and…you can't just molest me whenever you want!" Ryou babbled, looking both flustered and panicked at the same time.

He was still getting used to how, well, for lack of better term, horny, Mariku was. And how horny he _himself_ was. It was disconcerting, having these feelings…these _needs_ as other boys called them.

Ryou had spent so much time avoiding anything close to romance or sexual desires, it felt like five years of hormones were finally catching up to him all at once.

"I wasn't trying to molest you," Mariku said innocently, raising both hands to pinch Ryou's cheeks once again, "I just wanted to see your adorable blush again! In fact, I'm going to go get onee-san's camera!"

With that decided on the spot, he dashed out of the kitchen and down the hall to his room to begin ripping through whatever poor innocent places might have held the aforementioned camera.

Ryou couldn't help laughing lightly, as he watched his boyfriend dash out of the kitchen rather childishly. It was one of the main things that attracted him. He had a sense of humour, albeit not the cleanest one all the time, and he was caring and sweet.

He knew Ryou was the one who wanted pictures of their relationship, and that was why he had been finding reasons to take them recently. There was a deeper side to their love though, and that was their emotional connection.

They were two people who had suffered from within their own minds for many years, and, eventually, been pushed together by it. Not in a good way, at first, but it was partially the reason they had ended up together in the end.

The thought made him shiver slightly, and he decided to busy himself with beginning to clean up a little. At least, it would give Mariku something to take a picture of. Smiling to himself at the thought, he bent down to retrieve one of the many egg shells on the floor.

How had it even gotten all the way over by the dining room cabinet? Unthinkingly, he retrieved the shell, and straightened up again.

The squelch under his foot marked the progress of his foot, as it slid across a patch of olive oil Mariku had 'spilt', and his hands shot out to steady himself against the cabinet. It rocked and creaked on its ancient stilts, and Ryou gave a cry of shock.

The sudden weight on the cabinet nearly made it tip, and everything inside rattled noisily. Similarly to Ryou, the Egyptian god statue atop it was knocked off balance and began to topple –but it didn't have arms to reach out and steady itself on something.

In result, the statue hit the floor and shattered into about thirty small cubes. Ryou gave another cry, this time of anguish at the thought of having broken one of the Ishtar's possibly priceless artefacts from their homeland.

As his heart beat stopped racing, and melancholy set in, he noticed that the 'shattered' pieces were all very precisely shaped. He'd never seen anything break so perfectly before, and many things had been broken in the Touzoku house.

This thought brought back several unhappy memories, and the longer Ryou stared at the pieces, the more dread seeped into his heart. A familiar sense of panic began to buzz in his bloodstream.

Cubes. Little wooden blocks. Sometimes, people painted little letters or shapes on them for little kids. Oh, God, no one should ever give toys to children. Toys were what had…no.

No, a disgusting, perverted man had done that to ka-san and imouto, not the _toys._ Ryou knew this, but it was hard to stay rational when faced with his fears. The flashbacks pressing in on the back of his skull were so overwhelming it was hard not to give in to them.

He had to be strong; he had to face his fears. He couldn't keep running away from a silly thing like _children's toys_ his whole life. Forcing himself to come closer, he peered down at the cubes. That's funny, they almost looked reflective.

_Amane never owned any reflective cubes. Hers had blue letters on them. We used to sit and go through the alphabet together. Bakura would steal one so we could never finish it. What letter was on the cube that _he_ used? It was an R. An R all covered in her blood after he finished using to-_

Ryou scrambled back from the cubes, horrified at his own warped thoughts. He hadn't seen the letters that day. He had no one way of knowing that, but his mind told him _R is for Ryou. Ryou's all covered in blood. In her blood._

Moaning in frustration, Ryou felt his shaking knees give out, as he lowered himself to the ground helplessly. Folding his arms about his head, he began to hiccup through the tears that had begun to flow.

Those memories…those flashbacks…sometimes, they were just as made up and twisted as they were in his nightmares. He _knew_ that. The logical part of his brain _knew_ it wasn't true, but, still, he saw it in his minds eye.

Moments later, he heard the sound of footsteps pounding quickly into the kitchen followed by the sound of a deep comforting voice cursing at the sight in front of him. Ryou felt miserable, disturbing mental images now replaced with the image Mariku must be seeing.

_His statue broken on the ground, cubes scattered all over the place. Their wickedly glinting metal edges were sprayed with red, and a trail crossed the kitchen floor to where Ryou was hunched over. His hands, red stained, sticky hands, folded over his head in shame, but one eye peaking out, always looking, always wanting to see –_

"Snap out of," that voice demanded, and Ryou shuddered, feeling two strong arms lift him easily off the ground and shake him like a limp doll. "Come on, fluffy. I'll take you home," that voice, Mariku, Ryou knew, promised him, and then he was being carried bridal style out the door to the front porch.

"No…I'm sorry…I'm sorry, Mariku," he whimpered into his chest, knowing that he was ruining yet another date. Had there been a lot? He didn't trust his memory to tell him the truth right now.

"Stop beating yourself up. There's nothing wrong with you, or anyone else, so stop it," Mariku ordered gruffly, stopping on the porch to set his disturbed lover down on his feet, though protective arms encircled his waist carefully.

"I…I just…the blocks…and the statue…I-I'm s-so sorry, I didn't mean to," Ryou stammered, panic growing on his visage as he stared up at Mariku's face. Sighing slightly, Mariku dragged him closer, pressing that frightened face to his chest.

He was just confused, he knew. He wasn't actually scared of _Mariku,_ just reminded of someone that his mind kept shoving in front of his eyes every time he blinked.

Stroking his back and shoulders tenderly, Mariku waited out the trembling and tears, heart breaking with every little gasp, as Ryou had to wait for whatever terrible images his mind was producing to subside.

The more he calmed, the higher Mariku raised his hand, and, soon, he was playing with the longest of his soft white strands of hair. It was a sort of test he had begun using –when it was really bad, touching his hair or head usually re-terrified the boy, but when he really was getting over the worst of it, Ryou actually enjoyed having his hair stroked.

In this case, he relaxed farther into Mariku's embrace, and Mariku gave a slight sigh of relief. Thank Ra for small mercies.

Several minutes later, Ryou pulled away from Mariku, rubbing his puffy eyes sheepishly.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, but more in shame for his outburst than out of fear.

"It's fine, I like having you in my arms, even if you have to cry to be there," Mariku teased, and Ryou giggled slightly.

"You have me a lot more often than when I cry," he responded with a slight flirtatious tinge to his words.

"Not often enough," Mariku fake-pouted, earning more giggles from his lover.

"Oh? Should I make up for that?" Ryou asked suggestively, and Mariku was immediately on the offensive.

Not even bothering with an answer, he pushed his lover back against the brick of the wall and began kissing him slowly.

Within moments, the kiss had taken on a more intense passion, fuelled by Ryou's need to be reminded that he was still loved and 'forgiven'.

Tongues danced in a practiced way around each other, dipping into crevices, and re-introducing themselves with the other.

Mariku's hand found Ryou's waist and squeezed experimentally, producing a surprisingly low moan.

His system stuttered to a shocked halt as a slender hand found his ass and squeezed back quite brazenly –especially for Ryou. That's not to say he didn't reciprocate Mariku's loving touches when they kissed, but usually not so outright and confidently.

Normally, Mariku might have stopped there, now full fledged, make out to tease his lover, or tell him he was just asking to be taken advantage of…but, Ra, how was he supposed to concentrate on anything but that electric, lustful sensation when it was _Ryou's _hands on his body like that?

Showing his enthusiasm for the action, Mariku brought his thigh gently between Ryou's legs, not moving it, but putting enough pressure to further excite the boy. If he wasn't mistaken, Ryou even bucked his hips a little into his invasive limb.

Even if he was mistaken, that was enough reason for Mariku to start moving his leg in little circles, and this time there was no doubt that Ryou was responding positively when he moaned wantonly and ground harder against his thigh.

Mariku felt his own body begin to get quite heated, and –

"Hey! Hey, if you ever decide to come up for air, I have a job to do," a peevish voice snapped, and Ryou retracted from the kiss, sputtering for air and words at the same time.

The mail man, a small Asian, probably in his thirties, was glaring at what appeared to be a horny teenaged boy getting it on with his girlfriend right on the front porch.

When Mariku finally stepped back, looking pissed off at whoever had ruined what could have been a very pleasurable experience, it became evident that the 'girlfriend' was actually a 'boyfriend'.

The embarrassed and irritated expression on the man's face quickly turned to disgust.

Ryou felt his heart sink with his lips still buzzing from their kiss and need still throbbing between his legs. He had no doubt if the man had seen that they were both boys to begin with that he would have thrown the mail at them or shouted at the 'fags' to get out of his way.

Thankfully, before he could start with the derogatory names, or such, he got a very good look at Mariku's imposing form. The bulge in his pants wasn't the only big thing –his muscles were far larger, and far more intimidating.

"You have my mail?" He asked in a deadly voice, and the man was quick to shove it into his hands and scurry along to the next house without looking back or tossing a single insult their way.

Looking back at Ryou, he saw he boy looked frazzled, but, thankfully, not too upset. Part of Mariku wanted to just start up where they'd left off and jump all over his unsuspecting lover, but the better part of him, morally anyways, knew Ryou needed something else more right now.

"Come on, I'll take you home. You can talk to 'Kura when you get there," Mariku offered resignedly, and Ryou smiled at him brightly. It was those beautiful, wide smiles that made it worth putting off his own 'needs'.

"Can…can I use your phone to call otou-san?" Ryou asked hopefully, and Mariku gave him a disapproving look, but handed over his phone helplessly.

There was just no way to explain to Ryou that no matter where he called from, or how many messages he left, his otou-san was never going to call back. Personally, Mariku couldn't even stand how kindly he referred to the man who had left his remaining family out of shame.

Sighing, once more, to himself, he tried to ignore the lust which was still struggling to take control of his body. Right now, Ryou needed his family.

Someday, he'd be ready to take things farther, but until then…well, no use thinking about it. It was time to drive his lover home and do the right thing. It was the least he could do.

**Present**

Silence filled the room, as Malik finished explaining what happened. Bakura finished tying the last bandage around his left foot, making sure it was plenty tight.

"I'm guessing that's not the end of the story," Bakura prodded, gesturing to the Malik's feet with his free hand.

"No, it's not," Malik replied wearily, "after they left, I managed to stumble into the mess of things…"

**A/N: Anddd, I think that's where I'm going to cut off! I hope you all enjoyed your deathshipping-based chapter (initially, it was just Malik explaining what happened to Ryou and jumping right into what happened to him)! Also, before any of you say "how did Malik know all that" the flashback was a flashback from Ryou and Mariku's POV's, obviously, he would have explained it in much less detail to Bakura, and it WILL be explained next chapter how he knows any of what happened while he wasn't in the scene. Thanks so much for all your reviews and support, and hopefully I'll be able to continue popping out chapters as fast as possible (curse you school work. Don't you know the fangirls need their weekly dose of yaoi?) ;)**


	32. Cutting Edge Flashback

**A/N: Look! Look! I got it up on time-ish ;D This chapter isn't nearly as long as my other chapters have been lately, but that's just because I wanted to get the final flashback out of the way. It's very 'cutting edge'…lol, you'll see what I mean soon enough ;) Also, I know I promised thiefshipping, but I thought I'd pack a lot more into this chapter than I did. Still, I figured, better to post this segment than wait a week or two to post a massive chapter all at once! Now, with that said…**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~DEDICATION~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**This chapter is dedicated to NikaStarlight! She shared an idea with me that she'd had for the story, and I loved it, so I found a way to work it in! It's probably a little…angsty-er than she had in mind, but I hope she likes it all the same and the rest of you do too!**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!**

"_I'm guessing that's not the end of the story," Bakura prodded, gesturing to the Malik's feet with his free hand. "No, it's not," Malik replied wearily, "after they left, I managed to stumble into the mess of things…"_

**Flashback**

"Mariku! Are the cookies ready, yet?" Malik called hopefully down the stairs, having caught wind of Ryou's plan to help his onii-san learn to cook. Getting no response, the younger Ishtar frowned and mumbled, "Probably no edible ones anyways…"

Still, he obviously wasn't as good at separating himself from his concern for his onii-san as Bakura was, because he made his way down the stairs to check.

That, and if there _were_ any edible cookies, he knew Ryou would be nice enough to give him one.

"Ryou? Onii-san?" He called curiously, hearing no sounds of cooking from the kitchen –in fact, there was no sound coming from that area at all.

"I'm coming in now. If you guys are kissing or…whatever, you better stop," he continued, now feeling a little nervous, as he edged around the corner.

What in the…?

Shaking his head in exasperation, he felt his trepidation disappear. Obviously, they weren't in the kitchen for a reason, the place was a disaster! Mariku must have distracted Ryou somehow in order to avoid cleaning up.

Stepping into the kitchen, just in case they'd left any cookies lying around, Malik skipped across the room cautiously, avoiding any of the mystery substances spread around the room.

Mariku was going to be in a lot of trouble from the landlords when they got home, but he never really cared much what they thought anyways.

After inspecting every counter and tray, he determined that the only 'cookies' the two had managed to produce were the piles of charred ash on several aluminum sheets.

Malik grimaced at the waste of ingredients and deliciousness –he'd really been looking forward to having fresh cookies!

They hadn't had those since nee-san moved out. The landlords both had careers, so they didn't have time for that sort of thing, and Malik refused to given Mariku or Bakura anymore reasons to call him gay.

The irritating conundrum of his 'gay' reputation had him grumbling under his breath and stomping out of the room with renewed conviction to find Mariku and make him pay.

Maybe, some people thought stomping about was childish, but it really did release a lot of pent up anger, Malik found.

It also, apparently, resulted in white hot pain flashing from the arch of your foot up through your entire body.

Letting out a (manly) cry at the piercing pain driving up into his foot, Malik's knees buckled and sent him crashing to the ground. Trying to keep in any other sounds of pain, he fought the watering sensation in his eyes.

"_Don't cry, you filthy monster! Don't make our home any more impure with your cursed tears!"_

Those were his father's words from when he would rape or beat him. When he finally got to Japan, and learned enough of the language to get by, he asked his teacher why it was you cried when you were in pain.

She had told him that the body's first instinct is to cleanse the face when it senses a threat. That was why your nose watered and your eyes shed tears.

These thoughts calmed Malik down enough that he managed to wipe away his 'tears' (cleansing liquid, not tears, it was much more manly that way) and calm his erratic heart.

With his eyes clear, he immediately started looking for what he needed to kill for assaulting his foot so viciously.

Initially, it appeared he'd stepped on a child's wooden toy block. That couldn't be right though, toys weren't supposed to slice open the bottom of your foot, which one appeared to have done when he stomped directly down on it.

It was bleeding quite a bit as well…cursing, he started to stand up, knowing he'd need to bandage it, but his bad luck hadn't run out just yet.

The moment his second foot hit the floor, he knew he'd made a mistake, because he could feel the slime of some sort of cooking ingredient –an egg, most likely –and felt his feet fly out from under him again.

This time, he went feet first through the entire pile of blocks. The pile was jostled, leaving thin cuts everywhere their razor sharp edges touched. Which was basically the entire surface area of both his feet.

Ra, what did he do to deserve these things?

By the time he had cleared his head for the second time, he knew exactly what he was dealing with. Sitting innocently next time was the 'skeleton' of an Egyptian God –Ra, to be precise. Not only that, but it was a guardian statue, which meant it was booby trapped.

This particular one had been sent to them by their adoptive onee-san while she was on an archaeological dig with her American college. His onee-san had done very well for herself, and the landlords took great pride in that. They always displayed anything she sent them, including this replication of an Egyptian booby trapped guardian statue.

At first glance, it was an innocent statue, but as soon as it was disturbed, the whole thing would shatter into several dozen puzzle pieces. The inside of every piece was encased in metal with wickedly sharp edges, and Malik could now say he knew that the trap worked.

Groaning, he pulled his feet back carefully from the cruel trap. They were bleeding a lot…glaring at the kitchen floor, he decided not to trust the minefield of spilt ingredients and potential infections if they got into his cuts.

The smaller cuts really weren't bleeding that badly, and the one on the bottom of his foot was definitely slowing down…

_Maybe, I should deal with the statue first. I wouldn't want Ryou or Mariku to step on it if they happened by._

Considering what Bakura had said about Ryou's fear of children's toys, he didn't want to risk his onii-san's lover having a panic attack either, since the blocks did quite resemble them.

Who had knocked the statue over, anyways?

Pushing these thoughts away, he started to focus on carefully picking up the pieces and searching for the tiny numbers inscribed on the metal. In this way, he was able to match them to their spots on the 'skeleton' and begin rebuilding the puzzle.

After all, what good was a trap if it could only be used once? It was actually put together a little bit like an artificial Christmas tree. As he got into the groove of checking, replacing and locking in the pieces, he started to forget the pain in his feet, or that he should be hurrying so he could bandage them.

It was only the sound of the front door opening and then slamming shut again that broke his concentration. The statue was still only three quarters of the way complete.

Blinking his tired eyes, he wondered how long he'd been working. It took a lot of concentration, and was slow work…maybe, Mariku and Ryou had come home to own up and clean the kitchen before the landlords returned home for the evening?

That clearly wasn't the case, he quickly realized, when two strong hands wrenched him up by his shoulders, making him cry out in surprise and pain when he landed on injured feet.

So much for forgetting about the pain…the thought was immediately erased when those same two hands made a lunge for his throat.

"Wow, what the fuck, Mariku?" Malik complained, skittering backwards from his onii-san's violent actions.

"No, what the fuck is wrong with you, otouto? Why would you do that to Ryou?" Mariku demanded, making another grab for Malik's neck. Thankfully, Malik had been witness to more than one of Mariku's outbursts, and knew to protect his neck.

Why in the world he always went for the throat, Malik couldn't say, but there was a reason he always wore that golden neckband, no matter how 'okay' Mariku claimed to be. Blocking his hands rapidly, Malik tried to make some sort of connection, but nothing was coming to mind.

"I didn't do anything to Ryou! I haven't even seen him since yesterday!"

"No, you knew he was coming over! I know you did, and you broke the statue when he wasn't looking. You knew it would scare him away from me! I could hear you thinking about how much you hated him from your room earlier!" Mariku accused, sounding absolutely crazed –which he was.

Perhaps, crazed wasn't the most politically correct term, but it wasn't abundantly clear that he had had a break with reality.

"Mariku, I think you're being" –Malik attempted to reason, but was immediately outshouted.

"I'm being a good onii-san! This is what ka-san would have wanted!" Mariku roared, whirling about to march through the kitchen in search of…something.

Oh, no.

It was never good when _anyone_ in their family started bringing up their long dead okaa-san. It was the most obvious sign that something was going to go wrong in the Ishtar family.

This was no exception, because Mariku quickly located what he had been searching for under Malik's cautiously watchful gaze. His worst fear was a knife or an extension chord, he had far too many bad experiences with those hateful objects…but instead it was…

A wooden spoon?

The comical sight of a furious Mariku holding a wooden spoon made Malik want to relax –perhaps his onii-san was messing with him? No, apparently not, was the answer, because immediately after Malik thought this, Mariku had returned to his side.

If you've ever been struck with a wooden spoon, you'd realize that they're made with solid wood, and, thus, pack quite the punch when used as a weapon. Obviously, that was what Mariku had in mind for the wooden spoon, as he pummelled whatever parts of Malik's body that he could reach.

Malik blocked as many blows as he could, but it was difficult when Mariku was clearly aiming for his back –no, not his back, his ass. What sort of onii-san punished their otouto by spanking them with a wooden spoon?

The answer is, an onii-san who suffered from paranoid schizophrenia and was positive they could hear their okaa-san telling them it was the right thing to do.

"Mariku, stop it! This is ridiculous!" Malik shouted, trying to cover himself, since being aggressive would only make the situation worse.

"This is what ka-san wants! She told me this is how you were to be punished if you ever pulled such a nasty trick! What did Ryou ever do to you?" Mariku shouted back, whacking harder and with more accuracy now.

"Nothing, you're just being paranoid!"

Malik's words fell on an eerily silent kitchen. They seemed to freeze Mariku in place.

"Paranoid?" He asked slowly, gradually bridging the gap back to reality.

"Yes," Malik said in a mix of pain and exasperation, "you're suffering from a paranoid delusion. Think about it, onii-san. Ka-san has been dead for a very long time. There's no way she could be talking to you."

The wooden spoon clattered to the floor from Mariku's now slack hand. His facial expression went from furious, to confused, to awestruck, and then ashamed. Malik felt his heart squeeze inside his chest, as he watched.

As much as his onii-san was a pain to live with, and certainly not the nicest person, he was still his only blood family left. He didn't like to see him so ashamed for something he couldn't control.

"Come on, just go put on your shoes," Malik instructed firmly, wishing in his heart of hearts that he could be gentle, but any loss of control in this situation could result in an immediate second break with reality.

Mariku nodded, blond spikes waving with his head. Slow foot steps marked his progress towards the closest, and then back towards the front door.

For the first time since he arrived home, Malik had a chance to wonder, and worry, where Ryou was. Had he gotten home alright? Had Mariku…scared him? Hurt him? When had his break with reality started?

He had noticed the signs lately, the increased aggression, the way he shook his head to clear the buzzing in his ears, the paranoia…but, it always seemed to go away whenever Ryou was around.

He had hoped…but that had been foolhardy. He shouldn't have depended on true love and a bit of luck to hold a serious mental illness at bay, especially when all the signs pointed to a relapse.

Glancing one last time at the statue, and then at his mutilated feet, he knew he didn't have time to fix either.

Limping over to the door, he was almost relieved to see Mariku's despondent expression. At least, he wouldn't notice that Malik had truly gotten hurt. It would give him less to worry about in the days to come.

Not that Mariku would ever admit to worrying, but if he had to start on medication again…well, no matter what happened, it wasn't going to be easy on him.

The trip to the hospital was absolutely silent. The only sound was the wind whipping past the brothers, as if trying to push them off the motorcycle.

It was these sorts of thoughts that haunted Mariku. He knew he was sick. He knew, but the voices were so convincing…if someone whispered the same sentence in your head everyday for hours at a time, wouldn't you want to give in to them?

After they arrived, Malik told Mariku to sit in the waiting room while he informed the hospital secretary about what had happened, and then joined him while they waited for a psychiatrist to become available.

As soon as Mariku was being looked after, though, Malik took his opportunity to call Ryou. Surely, if something had happened, Mariku would have said so by now? Dialling in the number, Malik waited with trepidation for it to be answer.

"_Hello?"_ A tentative voice responded, and Malik nearly sighed with relief.

"_Hey, Ryou! I hope I'm not interrupting anything, I just" –_

"_Oh, Malik! Oh my God, is Mariku okay?"_ Ryou blurted, cutting Malik off rather rudely, and uncharacteristically.

"_Err…sure, why wouldn't he be?" _Malik asked, not quite certain how to respond. Mariku had always been very quiet about his health needs, so Malik used the same strategy he had used in the past: use a non-committal response for everything.

'Okay', 'sure', 'I guess', 'if I had to assume', 'don't know really', 'it isn't really any of my business'…these were all phrases Malik was extremely well acquainted with.

"_Well, he seemed kind of upset when he left…oh, I just feel so bad! I'm sure you've seen by now, and I'm so, so, sorry, but I accidently broke that artefact you had standing on the top of your corner cabinet. It was an accident, I swear, but Mariku didn't even give me a chance to explain! I mean, I was panicking, and he was just trying to help, but maybe he thinks I did it on purpose and is angry…? I really couldn't stand that, I just" –_

"_Ryou, relax!"_ Malik ordered, everything finally beginning to fall into place. _"Just start at the beginning and tell me what happened this afternoon."_

By the time Ryou's story was finished, Malik had a good sense for what had gone wrong. Ryou knocked over the statue while Mariku wasn't around, he freaked out, Mariku came back to comfort him, then Mariku took him home to see Bakura, and when he came home he saw Malik putting the puzzle back together and…well, it was hard to say what exactly Mariku had been thinking at the time, but he obviously blamed Malik, initially.

In some ways, it was good Ryou had broken the puzzle –at least, Mariku would never be angry at him.

"_Ryou, I really don't think you have anything to worry about,"_ Malik was reassuring the anxious albino for at least the fourth time,_ "Mariku would never be angry at you. In fact, he'll probably be relieved that it was you and not me. And I told you, the puzzle isn't very hard to put back together, I'm almost finished already! I'll bet Mariku will even help me clean up the entire kitchen once he finds out it was just a simple accident."_

So, maybe, he was laying it on a bit thick for the innocent boy, but what Ryou didn't know wouldn't hurt him, and what he did know, which would be whatever Mariku told him about today's adventure, would be between the two of them.

Malik considered his work done…except for cleaning up the kitchen.

Groaning to himself, he knew he'd probably have to take responsibility for that, as well. The landlords weren't going to be happy…who knew what they'd think if they came home to cookie ingredients, a half finished booby trap puzzle, a spatters of blood in their kitchen?

Sighing to himself, Malik knew he had a lot of explaining to do in the near future…

**A/N: Again, this flashback was written in dialogue format between Malik and Bakura, and literally took up about a paragraph. So, I hope you all appreciate the work that went into making it into a real scene (kidding, I just hope it was decent!) I did write most of it in one sitting so…if there's a lot of mistakes…just point them out, and I'll definitely fix them (eventually)! :) And THANK YOU for all the INCREDIBLE reviews (I don't think I quite got that across last week) I am humbled by the magnitude of support I've received for this story! Honestly, the reviews make my day; I can't get enough of them! I also try to respond to as many as possible, but sometimes I run out of time…sorry if I don't get to yours, but I will definitely do my best! BELIEVE IT! (Couldn't resist..)**


	33. Complicated

**A/N: I love this story! I thought I'd start by saying that just so ya'll don't think I've fallen out of love and forgotten about it ;) Also, I'm so done with essays and so done with school in general, so I thought, hey, screw homework for one night, I'm going to finish this chapter for people who don't know me but appreciate me more than the teachers I write endless homework assignments for every week! So, here is this chapter, born out of frustration and hatred of school ;) Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine (the show/manga that is…I realize I write this at the top of every chapter and I wonder how many people read it and think it means this isn't my writing..?)**

**~*~*~*~DEDICATION~*~*~*~ This one is for Aeleita! She's been a fantastic reviewer, and a great inspiration to my writing. Thanks so much :)**

"Since the psych started him back on as low a dosage of Prozac as possible, he's been alright, a bit more irritable than usual, and his head hurts a lot, but he says it hurts less than when all the voices are talking at once, so he doesn't mind," Malik wound up his monologue, letting that last sentence sink in.

Bakura had barely moved throughout the entire dialogue, simply taking in the entire situation. The Ishtar family certainly was…interesting, to say the least.

"So, he really is still schizophrenic, huh?" Bakura asked idly after a long moment, breaking the silence.

"He's always going to be. It just…won't always affect him. At least, that's the goal," Malik said uncertainly.

Mariku had never been one to share the details of his therapy sessions. Mostly, he just mocked the psychologists and doctors who assessed him and tried to work with him, but there must have been more to it, because it did seem to have made some positive changes to his life.

"I guess that's the full story, other than that I've just been trying to keep my injuries to myself, because I don't want to bring it back up to either Ryou or Mariku, or even let Ryou know anything Mariku maybe hasn't told him," Malik summed up with a casual shrug.

"You're not going to spread this, are you?" Malik asked, mostly out of need just to see the sardonic expression on his friend's face which said 'you really have to ask'?

"I just washed my hands of dealing with Ryou's problems, I won't be the one to bring up more problems," Bakura confirmed. He paused slightly, looking like he had more to say, then finally added slowly, "And I suppose I should thank you for looking out for him, too. I guess I chose the right person to give my knife over to."

Dark eyes bore into Malik, and he felt uncomfortable under that intense gaze. Somehow, talking about the passing of the knife was much more powerful than Bakura's teasing sex jokes.

"Yah, well, I haven't had a reason to use it, and I really doubt I will," Malik mumbled uncomfortably.

"I didn't give it to you so you could go on a mass killing spree," Bakura snorted, "I gave it to you for the opposite reason. You're smart enough to look after the people you care about without choosing that way first. Regardless of what sort of mental state Mariku is in, his thought process has never been as sharp as yours."

"Wow, that almost sounded like a compliment. I think you just gave it to me because you like me," Malik responded jokingly, and it successfully loosened the atmosphere.

"Yah, don't flatter yourself, kid," Bakura responded with a slight chuckle, though the once over he gave the Egyptian said that Malik had every reason to flatter himself.

Seeing the look out of the corner of his eye, as they both turned back to working on the project, Malik once again began to search his brain for the answer to his dilemma.

Fact: Bakura had been pretty upset with both Mariku and Ryou at the time that he had given Malik his precious knife.

Fact: If Bakura was _really_ trying to make a point, he should have given the knife to Mariku, or, better yet, Ryou.

Fact: He had given it to Malik.

Fact: That made no sense.

Fact: His current explanation really did make it sound like he had given Malik the knife because he…admired him on some level.

Fact: That _really_ made no sense.

Sure, Bakura gave him all the signs, but it was just so at odds with the image he always presented of a bad boy with a bad attitude and an overall lack of regard for the sophisticated dating world. Where did a serious infatuation fit into that?

Malik couldn't help but feel discouraged and wary about his own feelings. For one thing, he didn't like any situation where he didn't feel like he could trust his own gut instinct, especially when his gut instinct was telling him that he had real feelings for another guy.

For another, he didn't like this open, honest…blabber-mouth phenomenon that Bakura seemed to cause. This wasn't the first time he'd spilled far more of a story than he'd planned to share.

It felt good to get it off his chest, but was trusting Bakura really the right thing to do? Maybe, if it was just an innocent crush, but nothing was innocent with Bakura.

All the innocent facts and figures around him seemed to get twisted until Malik was sure he was staring at a dead end, but then, BAM, he was suddenly centre stage to the ex-Thief King's affections once more!

Nothing was certain. Nothing was predictable. Nothing was…clear.

If he couldn't figure out his own feelings, there was no chance that he was on the verge of figuring out Bakura's. At least, that's what he thought.

A sigh interrupted his inner musings, and he shook his head to clear it, giving Bakura a guilty glance.

"Malik, what is it now? You've been staring at me for five bloody minutes," Bakura growled, finally snapping. He'd noticed Malik staring from the beginning, and, not only was it entirely too distracting, it made Bakura want to know what was going on in that head of his.

"Um…" Malik floundered, not sure what to say, or even how to sum up all his confusing thoughts.

"Well? What's your problem?" Bakura demanded bluntly, pencil tip grinding into dust on the paper in front of him, impatiently.

"I'm confused," Malik finally blurted. Immediately, his cheeks flushed to a slight pink, and he hunched down a bit in his seat. His body language screamed regret for making that statement aloud.

"Oh," Bakura said simply, a small smirk lifting his lips, before turning back to his work, "Well, that was fairly obvious all along."

Still feeling flustered, and once again experiencing the frustrating blabber-mouth phenomenon, Malik felt the need to just pour out his feelings. Ra, was he turning into a girl or what? He must be gay, that was the only explanation for this emotional babbling around his…crush, or…whatever Bakura was.

"You wouldn't get it," he mumbled, looking down at his lap nervously. He still couldn't stop fidgeting, but now it was more a matter of embarrassment than pain. "You don't have to worry about being gay or not gay or bi, or whatever since you haven't bothered to think about what your sexuality even" –

"Actually, I'm gay," Bakura interrupted to say nonchalantly. Malik froze, staring at the other boy for a long moment.

Giving an awkward cough, he finally asked quietly, "how'd you figure that out all of a sudden?"

"It was never an issue for me. I just waited until I found something I wanted, and when I knew there was something I wanted, I went for it. It was just a matter of…finding what it was that I desired," Bakura explained casually, giving Malik a piercing look.

The boy shivered helplessly, unable to resist the expression on the albino's face. He got the feeling that Bakura wasn't talking about some guy he met in a bar recently. It made him extremely aware that he'd neglected to put on a shirt when they got up to his room.

In fact, suddenly it felt like he was completely naked in front of his crush.

"Um…well…well, if it's that obvious when you've found something you want, I guess I haven't, yet," Malik declared in an incredibly ineloquent and uncertain fashion.

Normally, it was this point in a conversation that he would put up his walls, and he wanted to, believe me, he was sick of sharing his innermost feelings with a guy he wasn't even sure he trusted –but he couldn't.

"Oh, for God's sake, just cut the crap already," Bakura snapped, rolling his eyes. "This is getting ridiculous," he continued, seeing Malik's ashamed and confused expression, "it's obvious that you're confused about your feelings for me, and it probably doesn't help to know that I've got a rather imposing boy-crush on you."

Had he just said boy-crush? God, that felt wrong coming out of his mouth. At least, Malik looked far more thunderstruck than he felt at the moment.

Bakura waited patiently, waiting for the timely fake rejection where Malik strapped himself firmly back into his closet and insisted on getting back to the project. Eventually, though, it became clear that Malik wasn't going to say or do anything other continue staring at him with a dazed expression on his stupidly cute face.

"Come on, kid, stop acting so surprised," Bakura insisted, a sense of nerves tingling inside of him. It was an odd sensation, not one he was entirely unfamiliar with, but certainly not one he was well acquainted with.

Butterflies, is that what Ryou called them? It must be the subject they were on. Or just the after effects of using such a hideously cheesy term like boy-crush to describe his feelings.

"It's not like you didn't already know about my…feelings, for you," Bakura explained, trying to sound airy and confident, but it came out a little more hesitantly than he had planned. At least, this time he knew why.

Malik was suddenly looking quite shy and flustered in an incredibly attractive way.

"You've never put it quite like that before," he admitted quietly, and Bakura suddenly didn't feel quite so bad about using the term 'boy-crush'.

Faking a nonchalant roll of his eyes, Bakura took the opportunity to slide to the edge of his seat and lean in from the waist up so that their knees brushed and their faces were in close proximity to each other.

"Malik," he murmured, in his most sultry but sincere tone, "I really, really like you. Does that make it better?"

"Yes," Malik replied helplessly. He felt girly and breathless, but, strangely, his heart wasn't doing what the books said it was supposed to –it wasn't slamming, or squeezing or anything. In fact, he couldn't feel it at all.

Possibly because the blood was all in his face or travelling to certain other regions due to that delicious look Bakura was giving him. Thank Ra he was wearing his favourite leather pants –they made having an erection uncomfortable as hell, but they were too tight to expand in an obvious manner.

These abstract thoughts flitted madly through his mind, and he was only brought back to earth (Where had he been anyways? Girl's and trashy fanfiction writers had a name for it…ga-ga land? La-la land? Yah, that was it. He really must be gay if he was in a place called la-la land) by Bakura's sinfully persuasive voice.

"You know, I wouldn't know from first hand experience, but I've heard that the best way to figure out your sexuality," Bakura suggested casually, "is to experiment a bit." With that said, he swiftly closed the distance between them.

He may not have eloquent words or fancy love confessions or any of that stuff Ryou day dreamed about and Mariku googled to pretend he was that sort of romantic, but he did have one ace up his sleeve.

He was a very, _very_ good kisser, and he intended to prove just that to Malik, who wasn't pulling back from the unexpected kiss very quickly.

As though bidden by Bakura's devious thoughts, Malik did just that, shooting backwards in his chair like a guilty boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"W-what are you doing? You…you kissed me!" Malik stammered, floundering about for an appropriate reaction to the invasive and entirely purposefully approach.

"I'm just trying to help," Bakura replied innocently, sliding nearly off his own seat so that he could continue landing kisses as close to Malik's lips, as he could.

"K-Kura, this is…weird. You can't say this is normal for friends," Malik mumbled half-heartedly, face twitching this way and that way to try to avoid any of those addictive kisses falling on his curious lips.

What would it be like to lip lock with Bakura? He'd done it with girls, and it had been fun. Mostly, that had just been to prove he could get over the fear of his otou-san, though. Would it be even better with someone as obviously skilled as Bakura?

"Don't worry, I'm just giving you an opportunity to experiment," Bakura assured between light kisses, tongue poking the corner of Malik's lips playfully, and making the poor boy jump in his seat.

"It won't even mean anything tomorrow if you decide you're not into kissing another boy." The way he specified the 'kissing another boy' part made Malik shiver at the taboo nature of the situation.

He had to admit, the idea certainly had its…draws.

"You don't just get over doing something like that," Malik insisted, trying to imagine kissing Bakura today and then acting like nothing had happened in school tomorrow. He shuddered to even imagine how painful it would be to pretend like that.

"You managed the night of Mariku's football game," Bakura reminded him, and Malik's eyes widened.

It seemed like so long ago, but it really wasn't all that long ago that Bakura had him pinned to his own motorcycle, and was teasing him with a confusing kiss on the cheek.

"Th-that was just on the cheek, it hardly counts," Malik shot back, knowing full well that it had counted, and had tortured Malik's thoughts since it had occurred.

"I kissed you when we went to get your drugs and you got sick…" came the next event in the chronology of their messy 'relationship'.

"Exactly, I was sick and a mess, you basically told me to forget about it, anyways," Malik complained a little bitterly.

Bakura pulled back suddenly, giving Malik a disbelieving once over. Was that really how the kid had interpreted his statement?

_It__only__has__whatever__meaning__you__give__it._

Apparently, Malik didn't realize how much meaning Bakura had given it. Ignoring his personal epiphany, Bakura leaned forward and purposefully bumped his forehead against Malik's, staring straight into big, lavender eyes.

"Well, I certainly didn't tell you to forget about our Valentine's date," he teased, choosing to ignore their…confrontation in the girls' locker room. It hadn't ended well, and wouldn't exactly help his argument at the moment.

Besides, his bad reaction to that particularly odd kiss had nothing to do with Malik; he had simply been taking out his own frustrations on the other boy.

"O-oh…well…" Malik continued to flounder; resisting less of Bakura's teasing kisses that began to wander closer to his hesitant lips.

It was true, as embarrassed and confused as Malik had been at the time, he had allowed the romantic notions in his head to take over, and accepted Bakura's spontaneous, but rather prolonged goodbye kiss after their 'date'.

And there really was no denying it had been a date; Malik had just been attempting not to think about it for the past two weeks. In a way, that, in itself, was proof that he could pretend their passionate exchanges had never occurred.

It would be a lie to say he hadn't enjoyed being pushed up against the bricks of his front porch, being kissed the way he had enviously spied Mariku kissing Ryou on many occasions.

He was taller than Bakura, but there was just something so fierce and confident about his older crush…it was hard to imagine him doing anything but dominating.

The mere thought made Malik blush deeply, and he found his body finally making his decision for him. Hands raised and shoved into Bakura's chest, pushing him away firmly enough to halt the incessant kisses.

A white eyebrow raised, light pink lips still slightly puckered. He looked...cute, in a very stimulating way. A tiny smirk worked its way onto Malik's lips, and he felt his mouth finally do something other than play coy with Bakura's –he found it in himself to say, "I guess that last one wasn't all that bad."

"I think I'll just have to agree with that," Bakura replied cockily, before lashing forward with a strong grip to wrench his young crushes lips to his own passionately.

Malik let out a muffled sound, but Bakura decided now was not the time to care about the princesses' whining. Now was the time to impress.

It was like an audition for the greatest role of his life –whether Malik would accept him as a lover might take awhile to find out, but every step in this complicated relationship had proved important to get him into his current position, and, believe me, Bakura was far from unhappy.

Malik quickly made himself comfortable, accepting the demanding kiss, and even opening himself for that quick witted and evidently skilful tongue. Basic comfort was something any girl or guy could give him though, and Bakura wanted to give much more than that.

Sliding his hands sensually down that long, lean body, he grasped two sharply angled hips and lifted them straight into the air and down onto his own lap with practiced precision. The ease at which the action came to him reminded his brain that he'd been in this position before.

Another person, probably a woman, had willingly been lifted out of her bar seat and landed on his lap where she gasped at the pressure of their bodies rubbing together, just like Malik involuntarily did when they settled together, but the reaction Malik provoked in him was so much more than that now faceless, nameless woman.

A hot, blinding flash unlike the usual lust rose in a terrorizing wave within Bakura's helpless body. This wasn't lust, this was…_need._ Hot, sensual, absolute need that had nothing to do with the average teenage horniness, but more to do with the long-desired, playground of Malik's body that was suddenly open to Bakura. As if having his mouth to explore through their passionate kiss wasn't overwhelming enough.

On Malik's end, he was also experiencing a certain level of that mixture of lust, passion, shock, and pleasure. Not pleasure in the sexual sense, but in the thrilling oh-my-Ra-I'm-kissing-my-crush sense.

Bakura was _kissing_him, passionately, and, oh Ra, lifting him out of his seat so he was _sitting__in__his__lap._

Did he just gasp like the slutty women in the movies did? Ra, that was embarrassing, but it felt too damn good to keep it in.

He could tell Bakura liked it, and was surprised that both of them could be so enjoying this intense embrace. He could feel his lips being abused, and knew he'd have to explain the swelling to Mariku later, but the idea of stopping was simply unfathomable at the moment.

Bakura really was an experienced kisser, but it wasn't just the way he moulded his lips, or flicked his tongue, it was just that sexy, overwhelming aura the albino had always possessed, only tenfold in this new, personal context.

The heat was beginning to make Malik's entire body feel flushed –when suddenly his body was hitting the very cold, hard, unpleasant floor with a solid thump.

"K…Kura?" He managed, seeing the room spin before his disconcerted eyes. Bakura was looking down at him lazily from his chair, a smirk on his lips, though his face was suitably lusty and flushed from their make out.

"I think that's enough experimenting for one day," he declared calmly, though everything inside his body screamed to join Malik on the floor and enjoy every second of the heated union.

But he couldn't. He knew his limits, and it was quickly apparent that they came much faster and much harder when he took these…activities up with Malik.

Who knew the kid would be such a stimulating kisser?

Grumbling to himself, Malik forced his body up off the floor and back into his own chair. Bakura's lap was much more comfortable…no, his experimental partner made it clear that that was over for now. Why, he had no idea.

Was he not a good enough kisser?

The thought was quickly dismissed from his mind, as Malik knew full well that he was a perfectly good kisser in his own right even if he wasn't as…practiced as Bakura.

Was Bakura embarrassed about showing how aroused he obviously was by their short make out?

Perhaps, though that seemed foolish seeing how obvious it was already.

Though, if he really liked Malik like he said he did, and was afraid of him not returning those feelings on a deeper-than-lust level…huffing to himself in frustration, Malik realized the make out had simply left him more confused than before, and now sexually frustrated on top of that.

He couldn't tell if he was projecting his own feelings on Bakura, or if Bakura truly did have feelings for him, or if he had feelings for Bakura at all!

Why was this crush thing so very complicated?

It had been easy before to believe that he was wasting time with his fantasies of making anything out of these…stirrings for the other boy, but now he had real evidence to support the idea that something could actually happen.

And that was more confusing than anything else in their messy relationship so far.

Oh, and now he was supposed to focus on a project, while said boy was sitting right next to him? Unlikely!

Even as he stared at the paper in front of him, letters dancing uselessly in front of his eyes, he felt a warm pressure on top of his foot. Glancing down disbelievingly, he found that he wasn't wrong –Bakura's sock clad foot was gently pushing down on his own bandaged appendage.

He was obviously taking care not to hurt him due to the large number of lacerations that he'd recently bandaged, but it appeared he was…trying to start a game of footsies.

Looking up at the albino's face curiously, he saw that Bakura's dark gaze was focused on the computer screen, hand moving smoothly across the page, as he took notes. He was actually able to think about working _now?_

Casually moving his own foot, Malik bumped it against his crush's foot playfully, and immediately felt Bakura respond. Muffling a laugh, he continued their flirtatious game of footsies beneath their chairs while also pretending to put half an effort into their work.

Five minutes later, it was inherently clear that there was no way he was going to get anything done while his love interest was sitting beside him and intentionally provoking him.

Allowing his laughter to escape, he collapsed forward on his desk with tired exasperation, not sure if he was tired of denying his feelings or just from being so utterly confused by all of Bakura's contradicting actions.

"I'm not going to get any work done with you here…" he admitted, voice muffled by his arms, as he pressed them to the pleasantly cool desk. Two hands found his shoulders, and a moment later he flying through the air, only to come to a grinding halt.

"What" –he started to say, coming face to face with Bakura's seductive, mischievous expression.

"You're right," Bakura interrupted airily, feeling that exhilarating sense of self-purpose once again. He was now convinced. He was only capable of emulating his old Thief-King self when he was with Malik. It was the only time he could achieve that sweet craving that had been haunting him since he gave up his 'alter ego'.

"There's no point in trying to work. We should just take a break," he purred in his most convincing voice, reeling the other boy in, already envisioning another attack on those luscious exotic –

"No thanks."

"W-what…wait…what do you mean _no__thanks?_" Bakura sputtered, hormones finding themselves hitting a dead end, as Malik calmly pushed his hands away and turned back to the computer screen.

"What, no one's ever turned you down before?" Malik teased, giving him a playful, yet still flirty look, before becoming serious again. "I'm not turning you down, 'Kura. I just…I'm still confused. I need to process this first. I don't just jump into things," he told his 'friend' in a more serious tone.

"…" Bakura glared at him wordlessly, infuriated and perturbed for reasons he couldn't quite place just yet. Not knowing what was bothering him, he couldn't actually blame anything on the kid, so he stuck with a frigidly aloof, "Your loss."

Malik rolled his eyes, though emotions flickered all over his face, turning back to his work with a sigh.

Why, oh why, were crushes so very complicated?

**A/N: Anyone else notice the last three chapter names have started with a C…? I don't know why I just noticed that, maybe I'm just very tired xD Anyways, I do apologize for the lateness of this chapter, because it wasn't even out of lack of inspiration this time, just lack of time -_- I know an overwhelming amount about music theory, Napoleon, genocide, the French Revolution, the fall of Troy, the Treaty of Versailles, the Middle East crisis, Beethoven and the Greek gods though! (Why is this useful information, you ask? It's not…It's really not…)**


	34. In the Mood

**A/N: …Really, ? REALLY? I finally get around to finishing this chapter (about one sentence a day, while dodging presentations and tests, which was torture) and it won't let me respond to a single one of my reviews…Anyways, please, rest assured, I would have responded to each and every one of your amazingly kind and inspiring reviews one at a time if had allowed me to! I hope you all enjoy this chapter; it is the penultimate one, after all…yah, penultimate, meaning second to last. I can't believe this story has been going on for so long…hope it was worth the wait! (Actually, let's be honest, this whole chapter is sort of filler for the epic final chapter ;))**

***Note: I changed my pen name to _Elle __Seren,_ but I'm still me! Actually, I changed it because someday when I'm (hopefully) being published, some of you might pick up a book by 'Elle Seren' and think, "now where have I read that name before..?" ;) This is the alias I plan to use when I am published, or Elle Kleos depending on certain…things…but maybe you will get to read my writing again someday, even after "Perfect" ends :)**

**Disclaimer: The fandom does not belong to me; I'm just a part of it!**

A bang resounded through the house, and Ryou winced. Their apartment wasn't very big, but he knew from past experience that it took quite a bit of force to slam their perpetually sticky door hard enough to make that slamming sound.

Not that he often found himself slamming doors, but Bakura had a bad habit of getting rough with the furniture when he was in the middle of a temper tantrum.

Sighing to himself, Ryou wiped his hands off on the cloth next to the sink, knowing there wasn't much point in cutting more vegetables. When Bakura was like this, he was more likely to go and kill someone's cat for a meal than sit down and eat a civilized dinner with his diligent otouto.

Ryou had been concerned when he saw Bakura's car wasn't in the parking lot of their apartment complex; for so long he'd been so focused on being the Thief King and doing what it took to get by that it was obvious his onii-san didn't know what to do with himself anymore.

His restless energy wasn't directed in any one direction, and Ryou couldn't help but worry it was going to end up erupting in one drastic, ugly instance.

"Onii-san…?" He called hesitantly, peeking his head around the corner into the short hallway that led from the door to the two solitary bedrooms set on opposite ends of the quaint living room.

And by quaint, I mean big enough for a single couch and a small, abused TV set.

"What do you want?" Came the snarled response, as Ryou got an eyeful of flyaway white hair and dark, spiteful eyes.

This wasn't so out of the ordinary for Bakura recently, as his good moods were few and far between, and his bad moods worse than usual, but there was one thing out of place that caught Ryou's attention –a pair of slightly-pinker-than-usual-lips.

Nothing that would normally catch his attention, Bakura often came home much worse for wear after a trip to one of his favourite bar haunts, but since meeting Malik, Ryou hadn't caught him in such a state even once.

It had made Ryou hopeful…but apparently that was not the case anymore. Trying to hide his disappointment, Ryou continued to address his onii-san politely.

"I've made dinner, but if you're not in the mood for it that's" –

"Of course, I'm not in the fucking _mood_," Bakura snapped rudely, shoving past his otouto to throw his jacket and shoes into the miniature closet.

Ryou winced again, knowing he'd have to clean up the wreckage after Bakura had disappeared into his room for the night, as he inevitably would.

"You know what I am in the mood for?" Bakura suddenly demanded, whirling around to eye Ryou with a furious, satanic stare.

Those crimson-brown eyes were narrowed and steely with a barely contained fury that Ryou couldn't quite place. If he had been out a bar why in the world was he so upset…?

"No, I don't," Ryou answered meekly, even as Bakura ploughed on, hardly aware that Ryou was actually responding.

"Sex," he said bluntly, tugging an irritable hand through his tangled mass of hair, "I really want to have sex. Do you know I haven't gotten laid in over three fucking months? _You__'__re_ going to lose your virginity before the next time I have an honest night of hardcore sex."

Ryou let a very virgin-like squeak of mortification at the obscene suggestions pouring from his onii-san's kiss-swollen lips. _Never_ had he gone on such a rant about his actual feelings before, much less about such a…private topic.

His flustered demeanour was only aided when Bakura reached into the closet, only to scoop up the nearest shoe and catapult it straight at his otouto. Ducking back around the corner hurriedly, Ryou watched the shoe smack into the door soundly.

"Well…Err…I-I can't really promise you anything about my own…um…sexual experience, but you seem to…I mean, it looks like you've been w-with someone recently," Ryou stammered helplessly, referring to those darkened lips, not that he could see them from where he was flattened against the wall, out of sight from his volatile onii-san.

A few seconds elapsed before he risked peeking back around the wall. When no more projectiles came flying his way, he crept out far enough to look his onii-san in the eyes again.

Bakura gave him a sardonic look, though some calm seemed to slowly be returning to his visage now that he'd let out some steam.

"Good job," he said in a slow, condescending tone, "yes, I've been kissing someone. That's not particularly satisfying when it ends with…little promise for future interaction."

There was something about his tone of voice…Ryou was almost afraid to ask. There was a definite sense of sadness, or maybe even regret to his words. What would Bakura ever regret, much less when it had to do with sexual acts?

Ryou had never known him to hit on anyone who wasn't willing to sleep with much less than the elder Touzoku…ah, that must be what it was.

"You mean…you and Malik? You went over to ask him if he returned your feelings?" Ryou asked quietly, trying not to be too gentle, as he knew that would make Bakura shy away from him, but unable to be anything but sincere in the pain he felt for his onii-san.

He couldn't imagine being rejected by the first person he seriously cared for, especially in the case of someone like Bakura.

As for the other Touzoku, he was simply standing there now, giving his otouto a strange look. It was a mix of irritation, sadness, and cold closure, like he couldn't decide whether it was okay to say what it was he was feeling.

"It wasn't exactly like that," he finally mumbled, before slowly reaching into the closet and picking up his jacket.

His movements were like those of a machine on autopilot –it was obvious his thoughts weren't with the motion of his hands putting the cloth onto the hanger and putting it back in its rightful place.

"Please, onii-san, tell me what it is that's bothering you, Malik is my friend, too. I'd hate to know something went wrong between you two," Ryou pleaded, and Bakura caught his eye resignedly.

While he knew on one level that Malik would hate him for telling anyone what had happened between them, he didn't have it in him to blatantly lie to his otouto's face. Especially not after throwing something at him…

"I went over to work on the project. He told me he was confused about his feelings, and we…experimented a bit. It wasn't the most successful experiment, I guess," Bakura explained, avoiding those stupid, caring, Bambi eyes Ryou always made when someone told a sad story.

It would be so like Ryou to want to hug him and cry or something, but that wasn't Bakura's style.

Was he pissed that Malik wasn't excited about jumping into something with him? Of course, it took him about five minutes after leaving the Ishtar house to realize that.

It meant that even if Malik _did_ have feelings for him, they probably weren't particularly strong. Not strong enough to make him less 'confused', anyways.

And he _was_ getting sick of this game. The thrill of the chase was being dampened by the strain of time, and the sexual frustration was beginning to get to him. There was only so long you could wait for one person, right?

Maybe.

"What do you mean, you guess? He didn't tell you whether or not he liked, um, kissing you?" Ryou probed, attempting to act nonchalant. It was a sad attempt really, but the best he could do in pretending to be more of a friend than an otouto to his onii-san.

It was hard enough to attempt to figure out how to proceed, considering Bakura had never been so open about anything in his life before.

"Oh, he liked it," Bakura stated darkly, and Ryou shivered at the tone.

What had happened between the two? It really didn't seem like Malik to jump so quickly into something, and then turn around and reject Bakura. Perhaps, he was startled by how quickly Bakura wanted to take things?

Surely, he wouldn't just use Bakura for…sex. There was something missing from this explanation.

"So, how do you know what he was really feeling? Maybe, he really does want a relationship, but you just surprised him? It's not easy to come to terms with being…gay," Ryou suggested hesitantly.

This time, Bakura turned to look at him piercingly, an open, tortured expression on his pale face. It wasn't the first time Ryou had seen such an expression on his face, but it still made his very heart hurt.

It wasn't an expression Bakura wore when he was in anything less than gut-wrenching pain.

"Hell if I know how he feels, Ryou," Bakura said quietly, summing up exactly what was hurting him so much in just one short sentence. "Hell if I know…"

…

"Are you going to wait for Bakura, or would you like to walk with me?" Ryou asked Malik politely, straining to act normal around the younger Egyptian. Mariku stood stoically by his side, expression a mixture of boredom and impatience.

Malik took a glance in Bakura's direction, and then quickly shook his head. He'd applied his mandatory kohl a little bit heavier than usual to hide the bags under his eyes this morning.

It felt like he hadn't slept at all, but he must have to have woken up to the results of such a…stimulating dream.

Ra, was that what he was reduced to? Dreams of Bakura as a woman who could detach her breasts and become a man for him? That alone wouldn't have been anything but disturbing, but when he/she led him into the kitchen and took out the whip cream and cooking oil…well, needless to say, he was feeling fairly uncomfortable around his senpai today, not to mention Bakura didn't seem eager to speak to him, at all.

"No, I think I'll go with you two," Malik said quickly, realizing Ryou was still waiting for an answer. Standing up hurriedly from his desk, he shoved his papers into his bag, before sparing a glance Bakura's way.

His eyes were closed, and looked completely relaxed in his reclining position. He must have gotten bored of doodling at some point and drifted off into whatever violent day dreams played inside his bored brain.

Malik was about to suggest that they should at least make sure he hadn't actually fallen asleep when Ryou stepped between them, interrupting his glance.

"So, shall we go?" He asked in a strained, bright voice.

A harsh sound somewhere between a groan of annoyance and a sigh of exasperation came from behind him. Turning sheepishly, he gave his onii-san an attempted look of innocence.

Bakura opened his mouth to snap something, but then had the presence of mind to glance over his shoulder at Mariku's blank expression and figured it wouldn't be a good idea to provoke someone that was teetering on the brink of sanity.

Also, he might have caught a glimpse of Malik's probing expression…

"Just get out of here," he muttered, and Mariku took that as a good enough excuse to grab his boyfriend's hand and haul him out the door. With only brief hesitation, Malik followed close behind.

"So…what happened between you two? He seems to be in a worse mood than usual," Malik suggested curiously, as both he and Ryou tried to keep up with Mariku's fast pace.

"Oh, I don't know precisely…I mean, he came home out of sorts last night, but all I know is that he was with you. Not to say that he was _with__you_, with you, but maybe he mentioned…err, I suppose it's none of my business. He's just been very unsatisfied lately," Ryou summed up lamely, unsure of how to respond to Malik's frank question.

Suddenly, Mariku's swift footsteps came to a halt, quirking an eyebrow at his innocent boyfriend. An amused expression twisted his lips, followed by a glance towards his already flushing otouto.

Malik grit his teeth together, as that amused expression grew more understanding and malignant by the moment. It was obvious that Mariku needed only a moment to connect the dots.

"So, that's what I was hearing yesterday. He didn't like that when he finally made a move on you, you wouldn't give it up to him, eh? No wonder he's _unsatisfied,_he didn't realize he's being patiently waiting all this time for a prude," Mariku jibbed mercilessly.

"Fuck…you…" Malik ground out, sorely tempted to comment on the reliability of things Mariku heard. Still, he'd rather pick a fight with someone else right now.

"You're one to talk about fucking," Mariku countered, and Malik's eyes flashed dangerously.

"And you are? Because I think I would know by now if Ryou had let you have your way with him," Malik hissed mockingly, referring to the many days he'd spent holed up in his room, attempting to avoid any awkward scenes between the two that he might walk in on.

It didn't take long to realize there was no reason to fear that. Ryou was stronger than some people gave him credit for.

"Ryou has values. Bakura doesn't," Mariku pointed simply, as though the logic was infallible.

"That's not true," the third voice of the party suddenly blurted. Both Ishtar's turned to face the representing Touzoku, curiously.

"Last night was the first time I've seen him come home looking like he…um… 'Had his way', as you put it, since he first met Malik. I knew right away he'd been kissing someone, and it was obvious it was you," Ryou said encouragingly, though his smile faded away as soon as the proclamation left his lips.

That might have had something to do with the horrified expression on Malik's face, though.

"He told you about that?" Malik demanded, face still stricken with a sickened expression of betrayal and shame.

"Oh no, Malik, no, don't think it was because he wished to offend you," Ryou exclaimed, head starting to hurt, as he tried to keep up with the drama unfolding.

"He was simply upset, because I truly believe he cares for you, and he doesn't know how to tell you that, and he feels that you rejected him. I'm sure he didn't mean to" –

"I meant to say every word of what I said," a cold voice interrupted.

A foreboding aura seemed to fill the air around the original trio, as not a single one of them could fool themselves into thinking it was anyone but Bakura who had walked in on their conversation.

"Bakura," Malik addressed in a clipped voice that strained to remain aloof. Internally, he was bubbling over with shame and hurt.

How dare Bakura go and tell people, even his own otouto, about their 'experiment'? What a hypocritical asshole. If he wanted people to know he was questioning his sexuality, he would have kissed the first available guy he could find. With Bakura he thought there was a least a chance of discretion.

"Why, hello there, Malik, good to know you've found your tongue today," Bakura replied in a patronizingly cheerful voice.

"_I_ found _my_tongue?" Malik snapped back spitefully.

"Yes, evidently, you did, because you've regained your ability to bitch. Now, if you don't mind, how about we finish this conversation somewhere a little less public?" Bakura suggested in a mock-polite voice.

"Oh, well now that you mention, why don't we avoid announcing every detail of my personal life to the world?" Malik responded smartly, but promptly turned and marched towards the nearest door so that they could finish their 'conversation' in a more private setting.

Ryou watched them both go, a befuddled expression marring his face. What in the world…? The tension between them had been tangible, but he couldn't tell how much of it was anger and how much was sexual.

Certainly, there was a sharpness to their movements and gazes which made him suspicious that there was more to their agitation than unhappiness.

Two arms slipped around his waist from behind, pulling his body up against a firm chest. He felt his muscles relax, though a confused frown still wrinkled his face.

"Don't look so worried. They'll work it out," a deep voice rumbled promisingly in his ear. Ryou sighed, craning his head backwards to look up at his self-assured lover.

"How do you know?" He asked in a childish voice.

"Because," Mariku responded with a small smirk, "they were practically doing it with their eyes. If they're not making out now, they will be before today ends, I guarantee it. The brat may be upset, but he'll realize he's only upset because we all figured out that he's completely gay for Bakura before he did, and that he's been wasting time trying to convince himself that Bakura's not into him."

"Are you sure? He seemed upset to me," Ryou contradicted, with concern coloring his voice.

"Oh, silly Ryou," Mariku breathed in his ear, causing the pale boy in his arms to shiver slightly. "You should know that look by now. They want each other, in every way. It'll work out. I promise…"

…

"So?" Malik asked in an agitated voice, further annoyed that Bakura still had his back to him despite the fact that they were outside in a 'private' place, now.

"So what?" Bakura asked casually, swinging round to give Malik an almost playful look with those dark, reddish-brown eyes.

"Don't give me that shit, you know what. You told me, you fucking _promised_ that what happened between us yesterday would stay between us. You couldn't even do that for me, could you? You just couldn't wait to humiliate me. Thank fucking Ra that I didn't lower myself any farther for you, you son of a" –

"Oh, shut up, would you?" Bakura requested airily.

Malik blinked, vision suddenly filled by that fascinating, pale face. He didn't have long to be confused, though, as an all-too-familiar sensation filled his body, starting at his lips when the warmth of another set was added to them.

After half a moment (of shock, nothing more, of course) he shoved Bakura away from him, hard enough that the other boy actually stumbled backwards a little.

To his eternal annoyance, Bakura didn't even look bothered, a lazy smirk flirting with those lips, like Malik had done exactly what he expected, or even _wanted_ him to do.

"Don't kiss me! Don't ever…don't ever, ever do anything even close to kissing me again!" Malik spluttered, completely out of is comfort zone, and fully aware that the glass panes of the door behind him offered a clear view of their brief kiss to anyone who was curious enough to look outside.

"I never want to kiss you again. I hate it. It's disgusting," Malik muttered, getting better control of his voice, as he tried to hurt Bakura in everyway he knew how.

Still, the other boy seemed unperturbed, even happy.

"You're lying," Bakura replied calmly, "You like kissing me. Perhaps, I overreacted yesterday when I was under a different impression, but it's become quite clear to me from your actions today."

Malik opened his mouth to shoot down this statement, but Bakura raised a hand, waving away his denials.

"You can say you hate it as much as you like, and I won't believe you. But that's not why I brought you out here. I take it you'd like to know why I broke my 'promise' to you, about keeping our little experiment between us?" He questioned, and Malik frowned, still irritated by Bakura's assumptions about his feelings, even if his heart was still pounding a little harder than usual.

Still, if he wanted answers, he had to play the game Bakura's way.

"It better be a damn good reason," Malik growled, and Bakura had the audacity to look amused by his attempt to remain bitter and angry.

If he had to admit it, Malik could feel the initial panic and anger wearing off. If Bakura said he had a reason, he probably _did_ have a good one –and at least it was only Ryou and Mariku that knew of their transgressions. That didn't mean he wanted to let Bakura off the hook easy.

"Tell me, Malik," Bakura began whimsically, "if Mariku walked in on you crying and asked why you were upset, would you lie to him, or tell him the truth?"

"Mariku wouldn't…wait, you were _crying?_ And Ryou saw you?" Malik blurted out, mind reeling in shock. Bakura and crying simply didn't match up in his mind. Rolling his eyes, Bakura let out a sound of annoyance.

"No, I wasn't crying. The situation was hypothetical. I was trying to make it easier for you to connect to," he mocked mercilessly, and after a moment, the meaning seemed to sink in for Malik.

"You bastard! I do _not_ cry when…if…you hurt my feelings!" Malik insisted, face completely flushed at the implications.

"Be that as it may," Bakura continued, now observing his nails casually, like he hadn't a care in the world, "Ryou did pick up on the fact that I wasn't in the best of moods" –

"How'd he do that if you weren't crying?" Malik demanded, curiosity getting the better of him.

"…" Bakura remained silent for a moment before finally struggling to say with some dignity, "I may or may not have thrown something in his general direction."

"You threw something at him for being concerned about you? You really are a terrible person," he criticized a little smugly. Bakura gave him a scathing look, but continued onwards, anyways.

"Regardless of your petty remarks, I felt I owed him something of an explanation. I gave him the condensed version of our experiment. You can't say I was in the wrong for that," the intense stare that accompanied his words reminded Malik with some discomfort that he really couldn't.

It was hard enough to refuse Ryou anything, let alone after throwing something at him.

"…I suppose you weren't wrong," Malik admitted slowly.

"I thought not," Bakura replied, and this time it was his turn to sound smug.

"That does _not_ mean I liked kissing you!" Malik snapped back, flushing once again. "And I don't want anyone to know, either, so…so, stay away from me, or whatever!" He tacked on awkwardly.

Spinning on his heel, he hurried away, feeling flustered by the entire confrontation. It wasn't helped by the sound of Bakura's laughter haunting his retreating figure, as he escaped back into the school.

Bakura didn't stop laughing until after he was gone, but the smile didn't leave his face for several seconds afterwards. A self-satisfied, supremely smug smile, but a smile, nonetheless.

He was no fool, and he knew desire when he saw it. He would have his way, no doubt about it. And it would be sooner than he had originally anticipated…

**A/N: I can't believe I'm actually on the second last chapter…did I really start this story over a year ago? Wow, the nostalgia of remembering all the ups and downs in this story and of writing this story is amazing. I thank everyone who's stuck with this story! I hope you enjoy it all the way to the end!**


	35. Glorious

**A/N: Oh my…I can't believe this took me so freaking long to write T_T…I know it's been long awaited, but at least it's finally here! The reason behind this final chapters lateness is due to two different things (neither of which are school work, surprisingly). The first is that, frankly, I was nervous about writing the last chapter. THE. LAST. CHAPTER. (What if you all hate it? What if it's way too cheesy? What if...what if...etc.) But the more important reason was actually that I wrote half of this chapter right after posting the last one and then my computer was like OMG LOOK AT ALL THIS HARD WORK and deleted it all…upon realizing I had lost all that work, my heart snapped in two, and I spent the last couple months working up the inspiration to re-write what I had already written and couldn't possibly be as good the second time around…but, regardless of this, I hope it is good enough for all of my lovely readers! I can't wait to hear your thoughts on the ending, and I hope this is a truly satisfying finale…**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine! (Also, sorry for any mistakes, I'm posting this almost right after finishing it, so there wasn't a lot of editing that went into it…)**

Ryou let out a squeak, as the tower of papers stuck between his arms and his chin wobbled, threatening to fall over.

He was attempting to transfer the mess from his bed over to his desk so that he could study and use his computer, but the volume of notes he had taken were making it a fairly difficult task.

A peel of noise answered his alarmed call, and he was so surprised that half the papers slipped from under his chin in a flurry of white disaster.

His first thought, after identifying the intruding noise as the sound of a doorbell, no less, his own doorbell, was, _Bakura actually took time to fix it? He must be really bored._

His second thought was despair over the mess of paper he now had to pick up and put back in order before he could commence studying over Skype with Mariku.

Groaning in pure frustration, he deliberated between picking up his papers or stepping all over them to get out of his room in order to answer the door.

Hearing the doorbell ring twice more in quick succession, he threw in the towel and simply shouted, "Onii-san! Get the door!"

In retrospect, the lack of the word 'please' made it sound like an order, but he was too irate over this new mess to care. A thump from the room adjacent his indicated Bakura's displeasure with the command, but a moment later a creaking door announced his compliance.

Ryou smiled weakly, mildly amused that the former Thief King couldn't even sneak out of his own room without Ryou hearing. The smile quickly fell, as Ryou glanced around at his scattered papers, hopelessly.

It wasn't that he had to clean up, that wasn't so bad, but…sighing gently, he glanced at the closed laptop on his desk.

Things hadn't been easy, lately. It was obvious that Mariku was unwell, again. He was quiet. Stone faced. Not scary in the way he had been when they were younger, but scary in a different way. Not even in a way that triggered Ryou's PTSD.

It was like he had lost his ability to feel.

Ryou knew it wasn't personal, but he couldn't help working twice as hard to please his suddenly aloof lover. He constantly caught himself wondering if he had done something wrong, even when Mariku insisted he hadn't.

Still…the sound of the front door shutting with quite some force broke him out of his dark, internal brooding.

What in the world…?

**-Twenty Minutes Earlier-**

The pencil he had been chewing snapped between his teeth, as he ground them in irritation. Mariku stared at the broken remains in surprise for a moment before making a face at the bitter taste and deciding that that was Malik's fault, as well.

Maybe not directly, but he could still be blamed for it, since he was the source of Mariku's irritation.

Ever since they had returned home, the sound of feet pacing the upstairs hallways had been peppering the floor directly above Mariku's head. If he hadn't already been crazy, the irritable cycle of noise would have done it.

A twinge of guilt plucked his heartstrings which, battered and blackened as they were, still thrived for the sake of Ryou's affection. He had promise his delicate boyfriend that he would stop calling himself 'crazy'.

Thinking of his fluffy little lover had him once again glancing dubiously at the stack of photocopied notes that Ryou had sent home with him.

In about half an hour they were supposed to be having a Skype 'studying' session, but he was fairly certain he would spend the majority of the time staring at Ryou's adorable face and wondering what it would look like twisted in ecstasy.

Alas, he would be content with his flushed post-make out expression, which always gave Mariku a sense of pride.

Some people might think his Ryou was a 'prude', or bent on waiting until marriage, but Mariku knew that wasn't the case.

Ryou, given his unfortunate past with the matter, believed that willingly making love was the ultimate show of trust and acceptance of another person's permanent presence in your heart.

While the notion was a bit sappy for Mariku's taste, he appreciated knowing that Ryou would, given the opportunity, put down all his barriers for him.

The simple fact of the matter was that Ryou was too nice for his own good and didn't want to make Malik or Bakura uncomfortable –he wanted to wait until one or the other had moved out of the house before he took their own relationship to a more personal level, physically.

Which, given the still-constant sound of pacing above his head, could be in a _very long time_.

Bakura seemed incapable of getting over Malik, and Malik seemed equally incapable of admitting that he had more than a little crush on the elder Touzoku.

Perhaps, measures needed to be taken in order to speed up the process.

"Oi! Brat! If you wear a hole through the floor I will come up there and saw off your feet!" Mariku bellowed irritably at the ceiling. The tapping of pacing feet didn't so much as hesitate.

Malik was used to his idle threats. It was Mariku's way of caring or, at least, showing that he recognized someone else's existence.

After waiting an appropriate amount of seconds before continuing, Mariku added, "committing suicide via pissing me off is not the answer, just go talk to him." He had only raised his voice slightly that time, but he knew Malik had heard him.

The pacing stopped, and Mariku sighed in relief. In truth, the repetitive sound bothered him because it was too much like the voices. The Prozac muffled them, but left him feeling like a shell of himself.

He preferred what he described as 'Ryou therapy'. That enchanting voice made all the others fall silent, as though they, too, were transfixed by his beautiful voice. He was also seeing that doctor again, but that was beside the point.

His musings were interrupted by his door being flung open, angrily. Unsurprisingly, Malik was standing there with a poisonous glare scrawled across his face.

"What?" Mariku asked in a bemused tone, and Malik worked his mouth for a second, obviously not having fully decided what he was going to say after storming into Mariku's room so rudely.

"You obviously haven't been taking your meds if you think I said anything about wanting to talk to _him_," Malik finally spat, folding his arms, childishly.

"Who's him?" Mariku asked innocently, relishing the look of confusion on Malik's face.

"What…didn't you" –Malik floundered for a moment.

"You're the one who pointed I'm not on my _meds_ –I thought that if you were so bored that you were willing to walk in circles for hours that you could kill some time talking to my imaginary friend. He's sitting in the corner," Mariku mocked, gesturing to the obviously empty corner of his room.

"Oh, fuck you! We both know that he's not…I mean, it's not…you were talking about me and Bakura!" Malik snapped in his haughtiest tone.

Mariku sighed sagely, leaning back in his chair, which spun so that he could face his otouto.

"Really? Because it sounds to me like you're the one thinking about him," he commented slyly, gazing at him through cracked open lids. He had the expression of a fox that had cleverly trapped its prey, and, Malik realized with a sinking sensation, he had.

"I wasn't thinking about that asshole," Malik denied weakly, averting his suddenly uncertain gaze.

Uncertain seemed to be the word of the year for him. He used to be the manipulator…now, he always felt as though it was his emotions that were being manipulated.

"Right, and you didn't enjoy kissing him, he just jumped you and you thought it would be rude not to kiss him back…?" Mariku continued to press in his most skeptical tone.

"N-no. I mean…it wasn't like that! I'm not his little bitch or something; I decide what I want to do with my body, and I'll decide for myself whether or not he gets a say in that," Malik said stoutly, tan cheeks tinting a pinkish color.

"For Ra-sake, Malik, I thought you were supposed to be smart!" Mariku suddenly shouted in exasperation. "By your own logic you just admitted that you like making out with him, otherwise you wouldn't have let him kiss you in the first place. Isn't that a good enough reason to at least give him a chance? You like to bitch; he likes to call you a bitch. You like debating stupid shit; he likes proving you wrong. You like kissing him; he's probably been fantasizing about doing you since the moment you two met! Accept it! _You like him._"

Malik looked, at best, stunned by the summary, and most definitely panicked by it. Opening his mouth to interject, Mariku quickly waved a hand, cutting off any protest.

"That doesn't even make you '_gay_' or whatever it is you're afraid of being if you start dating him. It just means you dated one guy you happened to like. Liking a guy is different than liking guys in general."

So, he was on shaky ground there. He'd probably still get called gay and all that shit if he and Bakura started hooking up, but everyone thought they were together, anyways. He was just repeating one of the many romantic ideals that Ryou was passionate about.

With his speech at a close, Mariku swung his chair back towards his desk, and made himself look busy by grabbing the top papers off the monstrous stack Ryou had given him.

He continued to fake looking through the papers until Malik was convinced he actually _was _studying (the poor gullible bastard) and slipped out of the doorway.

Mariku kept up his charade until he heard the front door slam shut. He allowed himself to relax at the sound, a chuckle escaping his lips.

Ryou would be so proud of him.

**-Fifteen Minutes Later-**

A cheerful chime sounded throughout the tiny apartment, and Bakura took a moment of malicious appreciation for the startled noises coming from Ryou's room.

It was merely for the purpose of enjoying his little prank that he had fixed the doorbell in the first place. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

It may have also had something to do with the fact that it was something nice he could do for his otouto that didn't also slot under the protective category.

The mushy thought made Bakura wince, followed by a second wince when a shout of, "Onii-san! Get the door!" echoed across the living room separating the two rooms.

He hadn't considered that fixing the doorbell would eliminate his usual excuse of not being able to hear it when someone was at the door.

That was Ryou's job, to be nice and answer the door. If it was a creep, he could always call Bakura over to scare them away, and if it was a sales person, neighbor, or other nuisance, he was much better suited to deal with them than Bakura was.

Thumping the wall in irritation at his own short-sightedness, he decided he'd have to answer the door at least once –if only to admire his own handiwork before destroying the blasted device.

As he made his way out of his room, into the living room, and down the mini-hallway past the kitchen to the door, he considered all the ways he could re-break the doorbell whilst maintaining that it was an 'accident'.

Wrenching the door open, he gave his best glower to the person on the other side, giving it his own personal blend of condescending sneer, and angry scowl at having his home invaded.

Little did he know, this was all the person on the other side of the door needed to see before they had the courage to launch themselves through the doorway –straight into his arms.

Naturally, Malik knew it was him when he opened the door. Maybe it was cliché, but sometimes it felt like he'd been transported into some sick and fluffy fanfiction over the past couple months of his life.

It was only fitting that he knew Bakura's facial expression so well by now that he immediately knew it was him and not Ryou answering the door by the disgusted expression on his face.

Suddenly, he felt weak inside. Not weak in the _knees_ but weak in the gut, like someone had watered down his stomach.

Why was he doing this to himself? Surely the daily torture of his up-and-down crush and the mixed signals Bakura gave him were less painful than what he was about to do.

But he knew that wasn't true.

At least this way it would be over, quick and painless. A clean break, if that's what it came to.

If that's what it came to?

Wasn't that what his goal was in coming here out of the blue like this?

Or was he still kindling some tiny little hope that this could end in some other way?

His confused mind was just that –too confused to sort through his emotions. Just like it always was. Only Mariku had a point; he needed to stop shutting them away and take control for once rather than letting them torture him day in and day out.

It needed to either be _something_ or be _nothing._ The in-between stages were better for manipulation, but Malik couldn't say he enjoyed them when he was the one being manipulated.

With this thought firmly in mind, he took two defiant steps forward and threw himself directly into Bakura's arms. For the first time, he took the initiative and made their lips meet with bruising grace, pushing past the ex-Thief Kings half-hearted defences at this strange twist.

Bakura wasn't sure _what_ to do in this situation. He knew the person at the door was Malik, he'd recognized him right away, but surely it couldn't be Malik, because he was kissing him with only slightly more tenderness than a madman.

And Malik wouldn't take the initiative in kissing him because…because Malik just didn't do that. He was still in the closet! Wasn't he?

Bakura's mind, normally so grounded and unshakeable was doing cartwheels of confusion and pleasure. Regrettably, the confusion won out over the pleasure because really, what the hell was going on and why did he have to develop feelings for such an unpredictable bastard?

As though sensing his thoughts, Malik disconnected the kiss harshly, gasping slightly for air. Clearly, whatever he'd been thinking during their out-of-the-blue kiss, it wasn't breathing.

"There! There you, bastard!" He gasped defiantly, shoving Bakura backwards with one trembling hand. Bakura took an uncertain step backwards, not so much from the light push, but because he wasn't sure if Malik was going to kiss-attack him again or hit him.

"Now you've officially made me crazy! I hope you're happy. You've kissed me and I've kissed you, and fuck you if the entire world knows that I have insecurities! So…so…fuck you, get out of my head and stop screwing with me!" He raged, appearing shaky both emotionally and physically.

Bakura decided he'd play nice and not make a joke about how much he would love to be screwing the gorgeous blond in front of him.

"Insecurities…? What? I thought you were pissed that I told Ryou we kissed, what the hell does this have to do with _your_ insecurities?"

The irritation and confusion in Bakura's voice gave Malik his first clue that he might not be the only one with insecurities about whatever was going on between them. After all, it wasn't as though Bakura had any experience with emotional relationships.

"I wasn't pissed that he knew we kissed and stuff," Malik said gruffly, now avoiding Bakura's gaze, "I just didn't want anyone to know that I didn't know how I feel. But I think I do now. Maybe. Whatever, just go get him, would you?"

Bakura rolled his eyes, cuffing the back of Malik's head hard enough to make the other boy wince and rub the back of his head. It had the desired effect, though; Malik's violet glare darted back to Bakura's face, allowing them to lock eyes.

It was obvious there was something more going on here than Malik just wanting to make an 'announcement' about his feelings. He was acting even more unpredictable than usual, and that was saying something.

Still, Bakura was more than ready to know, even if he didn't like the answer…especially since Malik seemed to want Ryou around to give him that answer.

"Why not just tell me if you want this to just be between the two of us so badly?" Bakura accused suspiciously, and Malik nearly blew a gasket. Was Bakura _trying_ to make this as difficult as possible for him to sort out his muddled emotions?

"Just –fucking –get –him. I want to get this over with," Malik ordered in a flinty voice, clearly informing Bakura that he wasn't going to get any answers until Ryou was also in the room.

"Fine," Bakura gave in suddenly, and Malik blinked in surprise. He had assumed Bakura would continue to put up a fight.

"I said our kissing experiment wouldn't mean anything if you didn't want it to. Obviously, it did. I don't appreciate being led on, and I'm not going to lead you on. So, if this is what you need to make up your 'Ra-damned' mind, then I'll do it if only so I can know whether not to forget about this or accept it," Bakura explained in a harsh tone, expression as cold as ice.

Malik flinched away from the bluntness of his statement, an ache forming inside him as Bakura stalked away. Was he really so uncaring about what was happening between them? Or was this just a defence mechanism?

At least, it would make it easier to create a clean break…

Even as Malik thought this, Bakura paused outside of Ryou's room to look back at him.

"Malik," he said in a commanding voice, drawing Malik's eyes straight to those soul-sucking, mahogany eyes. "If you do decide you're gay, just know: no matter who or how much the competition, if there is any chance at all, you _will_ be mine."

And with those words, he turned away again, disappearing into Ryou's room.

…

The three kneeled awkwardly on the living room floor, wondering what exactly was supposed to happen now. Malik figured it was up to him since…well…he was the one who asked for this.

Why was that again?

Oh right, to clear up his own confusion, which really hadn't been helped by Bakura's last statement.

He would be his? Did that mean…that Bakura really did want him, and all of his denial had just been to keep himself from getting hurt, just like Malik's had been?

He wanted to believe so. All of a sudden, he knew. He _really_ wanted to believe so. There was only one last thing to do to seal his own fate.

"So…I, um…I guess you both know how I feel…or how I don't know how I feel, I guess…though, I think I do, I just…well, I had this idea to figure out if I'm, you know, really gay, or just sort of gay or…" his gaze flickered awkwardly towards Bakura.

"Yah," he finished lamely, unsure of how to say what he meant. He'd never felt so awkward or inarticulate in his life.

Shifting his gaze to Ryou, he saw that the other boy didn't look uncomfortable with the situation, but more worried, his milk chocolate eyes swimming with concern.

He had never rubbed Malik's insecurities in his face, but it didn't make Malik feel any less awkward about what he was going to do.

"Okay, so…this might be a stupid idea, but…well, just don't freak out, okay? And don't tell Mariku, I'm not sure I'd survive," he assured Ryou nervously. Ryou gave a small nod, looking more confused now.

Malik edged closer until their knees touched, trying to look anywhere but at Ryou's understanding, warm eyes.

"Don't…don't take this personally," he continued, leaning his face a little bit closer to the other boy's. Ryou's eyes widened, seeming to pick up on where he was going with this.

"Please don't freak out…please…" Malik requested quietly before closing the distance between their lips completely.

He kissed Ryou as tenderly as he could, just like he had kissed his many 'girlfriends' in the past. He hadn't really had feelings for any of them either, just like he certainly didn't have feelings for Ryou.

He had to hand it to the tender albino, though, because he didn't pull back in revulsion, or panic, but returned the kiss in an equally tender fashion. Good Ra, what would Mariku think if he could see his boyfriend and otouto kissing like this?

Malik quickly realized Mariku might not even feel much at all over the situation. Maybe some protectiveness, but any idiot with eyes could see that there was no passion behind the kiss.

It wasn't awkward, tentative, or any of those other 'first kiss' words –it was just a kiss.

It suddenly made Malik understand why Bakura and Mariku hadn't understood his prolonged irritation over seeing them kissing in the cafeteria. There was nothing real about it.

Bakura watched the two's prolonged kiss with revulsion and jealousy. Was this how Malik had felt, seeing him and Mariku play-kiss? If so, Bakura might actually have to regret something he had done, which rarely happened.

This was…wrong.

It was wrong to watch _his_ love interest kiss _his_ otouto, even if it was just in the name of 'figuring things out'. It made Bakura feel like he had just watched the two Egyptian brothers kiss. There was just something profoundly wrong about it.

He was sure he was about to lunge between them and end their long experimental kiss by force when Malik finally pulled away. Ryou sat back as well, looking a little bit dazed and embarrassed.

"Yah…I won't be telling Mariku about that anytime soon…" he admitted.

Malik noted that he looked kind of adorable with his round cheeks dusted in pink, brown eyes wide in surprise. He also noted that the thought didn't make him feel strange, like it normally would.

He felt comfortable with the thought. The same way he might note a girl who he felt no physical or emotional attraction to was cute was the way he noted Ryou's looks. There was no romance behind the thought.

What was that supposed to mean, that he was asexual?

Glancing awkwardly towards Bakura, the slight thump of his heart speeding up told him that he most definitely was not asexual.

"I'm sorry I had to victimize you, Ryou," he apologized smoothly, though Ryou just shook his head with a small smile. It was so typical of him to simply accept that helping a friend, even if it meant kissing him, was perfectly normal.

"The whole point of the experiment was to kiss two different guys and…see what the difference was," he said slowly, treating Bakura with more wariness than he had Ryou.

He knew Ryou would not reject his kiss, no matter how much he did or did not appreciate it. Bakura, on the other hand, was less predictable…

"You mean other than the fact that I'm a far superior kisser?" Bakura asked cockily.

Malik rolled his eyes, already questioning his fears. Did he really think Bakura would reject him after his earlier statement? Kissing each other was practically becoming _normal._

And while it was hard to say what sort of kisser Ryou was in there unemotional connection of lips, he did know Bakura was a _very_ good kisser.

"Shut up and just let me kiss you," Malik snapped haughtily, coaxing an exaggerated fake-pout out of Bakura.

"But Malik, you're not reassuring me the way you did _him._ How is that a fair experiment?" He asked, gesturing loosely in Ryou's direction, though his predatory gaze never left Malik's flustered face.

"Well…well…you're not him!" Malik responded, feeling trapped by that gaze and the slink of Bakura's body as he brought himself closer to Malik.

"No, you're right, I'm definitely not him," he whispered into Malik's ear in his most sultry tone before adding, "and I don't let people kiss me."

With that said, he leaned in and capture Malik's mouth with his own, enjoying the way Malik didn't hesitate to kiss back, for once.

Malik was just thinking that this kiss was completely different from the one he'd just had with Ryou when he realized that Bakura's overbearing presence had weighted the 'experiment' in his own favour.

Malik was the one who was supposed to be doing the kissing! Jerking away, Malik glared at that all-knowing smirk.

"You ass, that's not the way this is supposed to work," he growled, using the element of surprise and his taller frame to throw Bakura onto his back, with Malik straddling him on top.

"Now stay put," he ordered, leaning in for another kiss, ignoring Ryou's squeak of surprise and embarrassment over seeing what position they were in.

This time, he had the opportunity to explore what the difference was between his two most recent kisses. With Ryou, it had been a tender touch of skin against skin, the same way two hands might brush.

Interestingly, unlike his other kisses with Bakura, this one was not bruising or harsh, but equally gentle in its own strange way. For one thing, Bakura was entertaining Malik's desire to kiss rather than be kiss.

That is to say, there was no struggle for dominance between their tongues.

That was another thing –there had definitely been no tongue with Ryou. The mere thought of French-kissing one of his best friends made Malik's innards churn, but with Bakura, it was only natural.

Bakura's lips weren't as soft nor was he as complacent, but it was still a glorious kiss that left any other in the dust.

Bakura, feeling the need to have _some_ control over the kiss, pulled away from Malik after a long moment. His mind registered that they had already made Ryou extremely uncomfortable, if not in the same way that Bakura had been uncomfortable.

To be fair, this kiss had been much more suggestive than Malik and Ryou's had been, given their position on the floor.

Jostling Malik off of his lap, Bakura then used him to pull himself into a sitting position. Malik gave no complaints, allowing him to do so, which was strange in and of itself.

Peeking at his expression, Bakura noticed that it was somewhat far away and contemplative, despite the small smile on his lips.

"So, did that answer your questions?" Ryou asked tentatively after a long moment, and Malik startled out of it.

"Sorry, I was just thinking that…yes, it did. Maybe, I should have kissed you a long time ago, Ryou," he teased, and Ryou's eyes grew wide, glancing desperately between him and Bakura.

"But…but…"

"Relax," Malik laughed, enjoying the way Ryou scrambled to find a way to soothe the situation. At least some things hadn't changed over their time of knowing each other.

"I just meant that it made me realize something. Mostly that I don't really know what my sexuality is yet, and I don't really care," he announced in a nonchalant voice, analyzing both Touzoku's reactions carefully.

Bakura's eyes narrowed, analyzing right back as the gears in his brain worked to figure out what Malik meant by that. Ryou's concern increased to the nth degree, a near panicked expression on his face.

"So, that's it?" Bakura asked coldly.

Malik rolled his eyes, reaching out to cuff the back of Bakura's head in return for the smack he'd received in coming to the house earlier.

"No, dumbass," he said shortly, grabbing Bakura's hand when he reached up to touch his sore head. "I like you. Romantically. I don't know what that makes my sexuality, but you're the only one who makes me feel the way you do when we kiss. _That's_ it," he explained, feeling overly mushy with the statement, and wondering how Bakura would take it.

Another moment, even longer than the last due to Malik's own anticipation, passed between them. Bakura's face seemed blank, searching for something to say in return.

"Fuck you," he finally said, and Malik's expression crumbled into one of confusion and irritation.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, _fuck you._ You made me wait all this time for you to figure out your sexuality and your answer is _you don't know?_" Bakura snarled, seeming enraged by the mere idea.

His hand gad not left Malik's, but his grip was so strong that it was close to bruising.

"But that's what you always say about your sexuality. That you're not a 'can of soup' or some shit like that," Malik argued back, his typical contradictory nature rising in the heat of battle.

Ryou's eyes bounced back and forth between them like he was following a game of ping pong.

"That's not the point!" Bakura raged. "We could have been…I could have been…so fucking long ago! _Fuck you,_" he said, obviously at a loss for anything else to say, and, in lieu of words, wrenched Malik forward for another tender-but-not kiss.

Ryou watched the two with a bewildered expression, wondering what in the world had passed between them. It only went to show that they understood each other on a level that others didn't, not even Ryou.

The peel of the doorbell filled the small apartment once more. While Ryou jumped in surprise, the two didn't even break from their kiss.

Feeling awkward just sitting there watching them, he decided he'd rather answer the door than remain where he was. Getting up, he hurried away, happy for the distraction.

Swinging the door open, this time it was his turn to be surprised. It was…Mariku? What was it with Ishtars showing up out of the blue at their house today?

"Did it work?" He blurted in his typical, overexcited fashion.

"Did…what work?" Ryou asked feeling even more confused. Maybe he should just start kissing random guys; it certainly seemed to have worked for Malik.

One glance at Mariku's handsome, excited face assured him that he wouldn't, though. How could he want anyone else?

Suddenly, Bakura and Malik's relationship made much more sense. They had something in common that it would take years, probably a life time, to find in another person.

Just like him and Mariku.

They shared something that no one else could touch, something perfect and beautiful, even when it might appear twisted and far from perfect to an outsider.

There was no way to replace that feeling of safety and understanding and protection from judgement and loneliness that he felt when he was with his strong lover.

"Malik is here, right? He and Bakura got together?" Mariku continued eagerly unaware of Ryou's deep thoughts.

"Oh…yes…can't you hear them from here?" Ryou joked, and Mariku laughed the way he did for no one else.

"I'd rather focus on hearing what you would sound like," Mariku replied seductively, though he knew it was of little use. "Perhaps, in thanks for finally pushing them to get together?" He added pleadingly, and Ryou giggled.

"We'll see," he replied, winking at Mariku's surprised expression, as he slipped into his shoes and willingly followed him out the door. Closing it behind him, he added, "we should at least give them some privacy."

"That can be arranged," Mariku said softly from behind him, gently biting the ridge of his ear, while wrapping an arm around his thin waist. Ryou gave a squeak of surprise, and then smiled, enjoying the feelings it drew from within him.

"Hey, Mariku?" He said suddenly, and Mariku stopped his ministrations, indicating that he was waiting for whatever Ryou had to say.

Just like that, he put aside his own desires for the sake of Ryou's. It was…it was…

"We're perfect together, you know that?" Mariku chuckled slightly, nuzzling his pale neck affectionately.

"Yes. Yes, we are."

**A/N: BAM! It's finished! My heart is actually breaking at the mere thought of posting this. How can this possibly be the last chapter? After so much work and love has gone into this story…it makes me happy to post it knowing you guys will finally have the long awaited ending, but so sad to know I won't be writing any more of something that's been a part of my life for so long…Anyways, I do hope you all enjoyed it, please let me know! ;)**


End file.
